


Hollowed Bodies

by acupfullofbees



Series: Hollowed Bodies [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: A lot of things happen, Aged Up, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assassins, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), But we'll get there, Civil War, Deviates From Canon, Dimension Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Firelord Iroh (Avatar), Gen, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kinda?, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Moon Spirit Yue, Older, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seriously FUCK Ozai, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Spirit World, Tension, There's swearing, Torture, Trauma, Violence, War, We'll get there though, aang 15, also, and it'll be good, but it'll get better, characters say fuck, cuz i love these morons, eventual zukka, eventually, for them to be ok, fuck zhao, inspired by play it again by metisket, it's a different azula, it's gonna take a while, just FYI, katara suki azula mai tailee 16, mid season two, oc party - Freeform, oof, slowest of burns, sokka 17 almost 18, sorry - Freeform, spirits are bastards, the slowest of burns, they gonna work through some shit, they hurt for a while, this gets dark, toph 14, universe jumping, zuko 18, zuko's plans are cursed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 66,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28188753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acupfullofbees/pseuds/acupfullofbees
Summary: Sokka was supposed to be the plan guy, he was supposed to plan for everything. This though? This is something he didn't even know the spirits could do, let alone could happen.In which everything that could go wrong does, and the world Sokka wakes up in isn't the one he tried to save.
Relationships: Azula & The Gaang (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Hollowed Bodies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065017
Comments: 78
Kudos: 80





	1. The Forest

**Author's Note:**

> hello! 
> 
> welcome to the batshit chaos that is the inside of my brain! this is my first attempt at writing and posting something on the internet so it is full of shenanigans and gnomes. usually my brain is just a void hole of bird screams but i've translated said screams into this ~ i'm still working on how graphic this will be and a few other things so the tags/rating might change, but here's some fresh hot garbage straight from the brain train ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> inspired by Play it Again by Metisket

Chapter 1

The Forest

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Aang is dead.

They watched it happen.

Well, he and Suki watched, Toph heard. Toph, who’s hand (' _so small, too small' he thinks_ ) is still in his, as they dangle off the edge of the gang plank. Toph, who he can feel slipping, her tiny hand weighing more than he can carry, but Sokka has never once believed in fate and they will not die here.

Not here.

Not like this.

Not until he hears boots thundering together, a stampede of fire nation soldiers crashing towards them. He hears frantic screaming and panicked orders and tries again to pull Toph towards anything other than the ground.

The sky is still red.

Toph is still quiet.

Suki is still gone.

Sokka closes his eyes, just for a second, he just needs a second to think, to just not look at anything for a second. For reality to pass by without him for a second. Thoughts flash through his head; his sister, Zuko, Azula, lightning, Aang, the tribe, his dad, his mom. Images of faces and emotions flooding his body, too fast for words - too many emotions to feel. He thinks of what could be happening at the palace, and with the way things are going for them here - he doesn’t want to think anymore.

Toph makes a noise below him.

The soldiers panic above him.

Suddenly the soldiers that were panicking above him a moment ago are falling past him. In an instant, the ship they were clinging to is perpendicular. The bloated red balloon of the ship replaces the red of the sky. He’s still holding the edge of the gang plank, but now it’s less holding on and more him pulling the ship down with them.

_Something hit us_ Sokka thinks, the thought crawls through his mind as he watches the ship pull away from his hand. As he hears himself scream in protest from a thousand miles away. He hears Toph cry out in terror, her weight suddenly nothing in his hand. He sees Suki fighting far above them, he watches Suki die, too many soldiers and no backup. They swarmed over her likes ants, Sokka couldn't look away. He watched as her tunic darkened. As her movements became desperate, as they stilled. He watches as his hand that had reached out to her closes. He sees himself, his mangled leg, his pathetic body, falling.

Sokka wonders, briefly, how old the soldiers are that fall around them. He can hear one, a man he thinks, but they’re too far away to really tell - screaming. He sees another, a pair like them, clinging to each other. One of them goes limp, the other clings tighter. Sokka looks to the other side and sees more people falling. They’ve been falling for so _long._ He watches one of the bodies pull their helmet off, and wonders if the armor will make them fall faster - if it will give them an easier death. A flash of deranged, manic, jealousy slices through him.

Toph’s screams bring him back into his body.

The quiet as the world pulled away from them, vanishes.

“Toph!! Toph NO!! Toph please NOO!” He pleads, “I’m SORRY Toph, fuck, I’m so sorry” he screams apologies that drown to the air, tears wiped from his face by the wind before they can fall. Sokka grabs her hand again, this time he pulls her in close to him. Hugging her, cradling her small body against his, he thinks _'who let children try to be the saviours of a damned world?'_

He rages.

Sokka curses the spirits. Righteous, vengeful anger fills his body. Fury blooms inside of him, crashing against his skin, and for a moment, Sokka can see himself as a firebender; flames licking at the corners of his mouth, his body leaking fire, a physical manifestation of all the things he can't say. The unfairness of their forsaken quest. The pain and guilt of his failure. The lives of those he killed, of those he let die. For Yue. For those he couldn't save. He rages at the spirits, at the universe, at everything he can think of. At Sozin and Ozai and Azulon, the damned spirits, his own pathetic uselessness. He holds Toph closer, feels her shaking and crushes her against him. Sokka ducks his head so her ear is right next to his mouth, and he whispers a broken apology to her. Toph holds him, and shakes her head against his chest, and he understands. As they fall, Sokka realises that Toph doesn't blame him. That as they fall together, curled and raining down to the ground below, that Toph doesn't blame him, that there's nothing that they can do. No one to blame. No one to save them. 

He sobs.

Guilt crushes him, ripping at him like lion-vultures. The ground gets closer and Sokka wishes harder than anything to be able to do anything to fix, to save, this. To save them, to save his family, his friends, to save Toph, to save Aang and Suki and Zuko.

He screams.

He screams and curses the world, his rage lost to the wind as they fall. He screams as he watches the world come closer, _'at least Toph has the mercy of being blind to this_. _'_

As the green becomes forest, Sokka closes his eyes.


	2. Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gaang has a long day

Chapter 2

Crashing

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Katara loves her brother. She does. Even though he makes it _really_ hard sometimes. Her brother was someone who cared too much, even if he didn’t realise it. Sokka was smart, too clever for his own good, too curious to not get hurt.

But this?

Katara doesn’t know what to do with this. Sokka left on a hunch, not even a real _lead_ about Appa, he had said he would be back by sun down. 

That had been more than four days ago.

The person ( _the body , a part of her whispers_ ) they found, slumped and abandoned in an alley Sokka had said he’d seen Dai Li agents go down, was something she didn’t know how to handle.

She had just wanted to go and wake them up, or to see if they needed help

_(it’s not safe to sleep on the streets of this city, that's all she wanted to tell them)._

They were trying to follow the scant trails that Sokka had left. He’d gotten secretive, stopping in the middle of sentences, hiding scrolls when someone walked by, going on longer and longer "walks", and then when he had told them all at breakfast that he was going to “check something out” she had wanted to believe him. Katara knew that they were all old enough to handle themselves, back home - if their tribe had been big enough for it, Sokka was old enough to be engaged already. Their tribe had begun to stabilize since the end of the war; the men that had survived had come back, the ice was thawing, children were laughing again, and if there had been anyone of age - marriages. Logically, she knew and understood all of it. That they had all chosen and agreed to leave their homes and help Aang stop Ozai, or else the shakey semblance of peace (really more of a cease fire than peace) they had would evaporate. Along with the rest of the world, if Ozai got what he wanted. 

Katara shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She trusted her brother, she did, but when he’d said that, something inside of her broke. Those words made her feel nauseous, something itched just underneath her skin that made her more worried than she had ever been before. And now this? The body that was lying there, cold, bruised, and broken, it’s face swollen - black that faded into a dark purple-ish green, it’s arm sticking out at a weird angle - stiff where the rest of its body was limp and unresponsive. That body they had found that was wearing blue, that was wearing the pants that she had fixed so long ago, that when she pushed the hair out of its face _(what had happened to his wolf tail? She wondered, detached)_ looked like someone she knew.

Someone she loved. 

  
  


The broken thing that was lying there looked like her brother. 

Aang was the fastest. She'd told Aang to get help as soon as she had seen the blue, and she had never been so grateful for how annoyingly quick he was until now. 

Katara realised she was moving, her body opening her waterskin, her hands coated in a familiar soft cold, the water turning light and warm as she worked her hands over the body. 

  
  


Toph was silent next to her.

  
  


Aang was taking too long.

She didn’t want to touch his head _(she couldn't look at him, couldn't look at his face and try to be ok)_ until there was someone there to guide her. Until someone who knew what they were doing and knew what to look for, was there. She'd only spent a day and a half with Yugoda, she was a combat master, not a healer. But she knew instinctively that bones should not feel like they did here. Sokka’s bones shouldn’t feel like this. _No one's_ bones should feel like this. They felt scratchy, like too new koalasheep wool, like their thick winter socks. Like when she walked through bushes searching for berries, they felt _rough_ . She could feel cracks that opened slightly when the body beneath her breathed, so shallow she couldn’t tell what was happening at first. Katara could feel liquid in the lungs, beneath the bruises _(why did bruises feel like over boiled sea prunes?)_ , she could feel how each shallow breath shook and rattled in their chest. She brought the water lower, feeling along the internal organs, looking for punctures, bruising, anything she _knew_ how to fix.

Toph was saying something. Katara closed her eyes and shook herself. Not now. This person needed help and she was going to give it and they were going to be ok. They were going to be ok because they had to be. Katara opened her eyes. 

“Toph, I need you to tell me what you can feel.” She worked on smoothing the bone beneath her, firming the bruised tissue so it didn't feel so _mushy_ anymore. 

“...it’s not good Katara.” Toph hovered somewhere over her shoulder, turned slightly away from the body

“Tell me. Where does it feel the worst?” The bruise finally firmed, less mush more ripe. The bone still felt like a cat tongue, but it was stable.

“Who is it?” Toph's voice was quiet, hardly a whisper - Katara had never heard her speak so softly, and hearing it was like someone had pushed her off the ice in the middle of winter. It chilled her down to her bones. The broken thing inside her crumbled further. 

"It's him. It's Sokka." Hearing herself admit it, to say it out loud, that this body - this broken thing beneath her hands - was her brother, was too much. She couldn't tell anymore if it was sweat or tears falling onto her hands. She moved to the next scratchy bone and mush.

"Work fast Katara. It's bad." 

That was all she needed. All the confirmation she needed. They were alive, this body that looked like her brother was alive. Barely. She worked water into the stiff arm, feeling hairline fractures and bruises smoothing over before moving downwards towards the wrists, the fingers jutting out _wrong._ Katara felt something burning in the back of her throat, bile creeping up inside of her - she swallowed and tried to heal faster.

Aang came back with help when Katara started to work on Sokka's chest. 

The others worked around her. 

Toph raised the ground beneath them, securing Sokka's head and neck while lifting her and the other person ( _the medic? she registered absently)_ , before using the earth to move everyone but still letting her work on healing. Katara didn’t notice, didn’t pay attention to the sounds of frantic directions being shouted, didn’t listen to the person sitting on the other side, Katara didn’t hear anything at all. Not until she felt the ground moving under her again, this time going down, down until she was on the ground but Sokka’s body was above her. The ground he was on staying at bed height, she looked and her hands were still reaching up to try and get to him from where she was kneeling on the ground, hands still swathed in blue. 

Time started again, and the world came slamming back into her. 

Suddenly there were people around her. Lifting his body _(Sokka, she reminded herself)_ as gently as they could before taking him away, racing down the hall of the medical building they appeared to be in. She sat there for a second, watching them take him _(Sokka, they’re taking_ **_Sokka_ ** _)_ before forcing herself up and running after them. She caught up to them as the healers were taking off his shirt, cutting the blue fabric apart to see the damage underneath. 

“...was healing him when I got there. Patient is a sixteen year old male, appears to have suffered severe blunt force trauma to the lateral chest wall. Likely shoulder dislocation. Respiratory patterns indicate potential flail chest, and pulmonary contusion. Patient is unresponsive and was unconscious at the scene." The nurse with the scissors peeled off the blue fabric. The skin underneath mottled with swaths of deep violets that melted into nauseating greenish yellows. The body breathed, and Katara watched a patch of marbled skin sink inwards with the breath. 

“Vitals” A voice inside the chaos commands, but before anyone can say anything, Toph screams. 

“NO!! His heart! His heart! Someone do something! It stopped! It stopped, his heart _stopped_!” Toph tried to push through the nurses, reaching out towards Katara, her small hand latching onto her arm.

The room exploded into action. Sokka lifted onto a bed while a nurse jumps on top of his body to start compressions. The nurses flew around in a practiced frenzy, some grabbing supplies, others shouting orders. Katara watched, numb, as her brother is taken from her.

The sight of her brother on the bed, unmoving under the nurse, will haunt her. 

Katara looked around the room, turning herself slowly around to view the nightmare she had become a part of. She saw Toph and Aang in a small corner. Toph crying silently, Aang pale and unsteady on his feet. She watched Aang sway and cling to Toph, hugging her tightly, as Katara walked to them. As she got closer, she reached out, just in time for Aang to look up and see her coming towards them. His hand shook as it waited there, suspended in the air. Katara reached for it, his hand guiding and grounding her. As her hand connects to his, they collapse into each other. Katara pitched forward, her legs buckling under her as she stepped into Aang and Toph's embrace. They sink to the floor, midway between catching Katara and losing their own strength. The world slows, and they hold each other. 

* * *

Toph jerks away from them sometime later. 

She lets out a noise, a sharp, guttural sound that splits the room open. It cracks through the air, agony and hope released in one breath. 

“I can hear it.” she whispers “I can hear it, I can hear him!” she’s yelling now, trying to stand, stumbling out of their huddle and to the bed Sokka’s lying in, a different nurse is on him now, hands laced together pushing his fragile chest down and up in quick, practiced movements. 

“I can hear him! His heart, it’s back, I can hear it!” Toph smashes her way through the legs of the nurse nearest to her, grabbing at their uniforms, shouting to them that Sokka’s back, that his heart is beating. 

“Vitals!” someone commands. Someone else responds and yells numbers and things that Katara can't follow.

“Confirmed! We have a pulse!" The nurse on top of Sokka stops their compressions, and is handed a device with a mask and a balloon.

The nurse put the mask over Sokka's nose and mouth and takes hold of the end that has a bag, and pushes down - Sokka's chest rising and falling with each squeeze the nurse gives. It took Katara a second to realize that Sokka wasn't breathing, that the nurse was doing it for him with that thing they were holding. Her brother wasn't breathing. He _couldn't_ breathe. Whatever lead he had thought he had, whatever his hunch was, led him to this. Wherever Appa was, this is what had happened when they tried to save him. Sokka had almost died just following a hunch. If Katara hadn't already been on the ground, she would've been now. Whatever strength she had left was gone, it seeped from her body - leaving her boneless, too weak to move from where she sat hunched over, staring at her hands curled into fists on the ground. 

Someone had done this to her brother. Someone had _beaten Sokka to death._

Thought crashed through her. Sokka had died. _Sokka had **died**_. Someone out there had killed him, however brief his death was. He had died on that bed. He still couldn't breathe by himself. There was someone _on top_ of her brother _breathing_ for him because someone beat him so badly that his body gave out. They were just kids. Sokka was still a teenager, how could someone do this to a kid? Her thoughts rolled and crashed against her, Sokka being secretive, him being beaten and lost _(taken, he was taken, Sokka wouldn't just get lost. she thought)_ , Appa missing, the willingness to beat a child to death for a secret, and just as quickly as her thoughts started they stopped. She knew. She knew what happened. A picture was forming within her and it _terrified_ her.

The weight of her realization made her vision swim. The people who had done this to Sokka where the ones that they had turned to for help. They had killed her brother and they had run straight to them, and now there was no where they could go. Not with Sokka like this. Not without Appa, their only means of escape. They were trapped. The ground beneath her started to move, her hands swirling and mixing with the moving floor. Her brothers murderers were _right there_ and she couldn't do anything. None of them could. They were trapped in a cage surrounded by people that wanted to brutally murder them just to keep them quiet. Her arms buckled, and she fell to her side before rolling onto her back, her vision darkened around the edges.

Aang was leaning over her, pale and wide eyed. 

"Dai Li" she whispered, and the world went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i jingle slowly across the ground to present you with some more brain train hot soup. there's no real schedule for this, especially because i have nothing going on right now (or should i say write now *finger guns*), i'm just kind of writing and posting as things happen. mostly because i am full of chaos and anxiety and am actually a goblin. anyways, here's part two of the preface ~
> 
> also!! thank you for your comments!! seeing notifications pop up makes my goopy little gremlin heart stutter   
> (´ ε ` )♡
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	3. Glass & Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spirits are bastards

Chapter 3

Glass & Bone

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Sokka wakes to pain.

He gasps out a small strangled sound, bitten off before it can become anything more. Black becomes blinding, shocking, light. 

There are noises happening around him, loud voices and sounds of people running. He can’t hear anything, the only thing he can do is lie there trying not to scream as they fall. He’s falling, Toph is falling, and they’re _going to die and it’s all his fault._ Toph’s weight is _gone_ and he can’t see her and _Toph is_ **_gone_ ** _and Suki is_ **_dead_ ** _and it’s_ **_all his fault_ ** . There’s a loud noise happening around him and Sokka can’t figure out what’s going on. He’s _falling,_ why can he hear _noises_ \- there can’t be noises. Falling is quiet. Falling is too quiet. Falling doesn’t have sounds, it has pressure and steals the air from out of his lungs and falling is cold. So, so, _cold_. 

It’s too much.

It’s too bright, it’s too loud, it’s _too much,_ until suddenly it’s not. Suddenly it’s quiet and dark again, and Sokka lets himself fall. The noise goes away too, which is nice, he thinks - it sounded like someone screaming. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Katara wakes to screaming.

The noise jarrs her into consciousness. By the time her brain catches up with her, she’s standing; arms tucked in by her sides, hands palm faced out, knees bent, feet a little over shoulder width apart, ready. But there’s no fight to be had. The screaming is coming from the person on the bed to her right. Where Toph and Aang are. The day before hits Katara like the fight she’s stanced for. Sokka dying, coming back, the broken body, the spot where the skin moved the wrong when he breathed, _Sokka dying._ Katara runs to the other side of the room, towards Toph and Aang, nearly crashing into the nurses who’re running to the bed where the screaming is. 

It’s Sokka. 

Sokka is screaming. 

Sokka is the one that’s making the noise. The one that sounds like the world is ending. He’s the one sobbing, his screams piercing through them like no living thing should. 

The doctor comes skidding in, running towards the nurses closest to Sokka who are holding him down, trying to keep him from doing any more harm to himself. Katara can’t see from what they’re doing to him where she is, but she can hear - the doctor turns to the nurse closest to her and asks for something, hand out and waiting. The nurse turns to the shelves behind her, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a small vial and syringe, filling the syringe she hands it back to the doctor. Sokka thrashes and tenses against the nurses holding him, he jerks up suddenly - his back arches off of the bed and freezes. The screaming stops. Sokka collapses back on to the bed, limp, all the tension gone in an instant. His head lolls back on the pillow, a last sob shudders through him before he goes quiet again. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Hui Yin had seen a lot of things in her time as a medic. She had seen more when she was a combat medic stationed on the outer ring, but she’s glad she doesn’t see that much anymore. She likes her clinic; large enough that she doesn’t have to send emergencies away but also small enough that it was manageable. Not quite a hospital, but not quite a medic tent. The other medics she worked with were capable, they knew their stuff and did it well. Hui Yin made it a point to hire other former combats, they could hold their own and knew what needed to be done without being told. She was proud of her staff, and they knew it. 

The day that the Avatar crashed in, panicked and pleading for help, changed everything. Her quiet clinic turned into an active trauma center. Nian Zhen left with the Avatar, coming back less than a half hour later with a corpse, a traumatized water bender, and a tiny blind child that had apparently earth bent all of them to the clinic on some kind of earth vehicle. Hui Yin wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day. 

The corpse turned out to not be a corpse. It turned out to be the broken body of a child. Not even five minutes after they all destroyed her waiting area, the kid on the bed crashed. The tiny earthbender screaming that his heart was gone, and all the combats fell back into field routine. They got him back, Hui Yin just didn’t know for how long. The kid would be lucky to make it through the night, but if he did, maybe there could be something to hope for. The water bender had fainted sometime between when Nian Zhen was doing CPR and when Ming Je worked on rescue breathing. The other kids, the tiny earth bender who could apparently _feel heartbeats_ and the _Avatar_ were huddled together on a bench at the end of the beds between the boy and the bender. 

Hui Yin was charting when the kid started screaming. She thanked the spirits that she had sent Ya Qin home, the poor woman was due sometime at the end of the month and being around _this_ would almost definitely cause stress induced labor, which is the last thing that any of them needed. Other than that, the clinic was quiet. They had had a few broken bones, some scrapes, a chef with a nearly severed finger, the usual - nothing that they couldn’t close the clinic for, until this. After they had gotten the kid stable Hui Yin closed the clinic. This was going to take the whole team. When the screaming started she was up and out her office door before she knew she was moving. _Thank you drill master Han Xin, you unforgiving bastard, for your relentless and obsessive need for mechanical spinal reflex perfection. Hui Yin thought sarcastically to herself._ She was though, deep down, grateful for drilling the reflex into her, she didn’t like to think about what could’ve happened to her or others if he hadn’t. 

When she got to the room the Ming Je, Nian Zhen, and Yae Song were working on keeping the kid from throwing himself off the bed. Hui Yin ran up to Yae Song, called out for a tranquilizer and set to work making sure the kid didn’t kill himself. She was taking her staff out for drinks as soon as this kid was out the clinic doors. She was taking them on a retreat if the kid left through the morgue. Kids were hard, kids this bad were even harder. 

The Avatar spoke first. 

“What happened to him?” him and the earthbender were still on the bench, the water bender woke up at some point and was standing near them, eyes glazed, standing in a fighting stance. Kid had good instincts. 

“Got hit with something hard, a lot.” Ming Je answered, shrugging a shoulder. They might not know the story, but they could guess. They just didn’t want to. It was easier to treat without thinking about _how_ the wounds got there in the first place. 

“Will he be ok?” This time it was the earthbender that spoke. Her voice quiet in the crowded room. 

“It’d be better if we had a bender that could heal.” Hui Yin didn’t want to give them false hope, or false despair, so instead she gave them truth. 

“Teach me.” The waterbender breathed the words out. Her voice was nothing more than air. Everyone turned to her. “Teach me to heal. I can heal, teach me.” her voice was stronger now, eyes focused, more sure. “I trained under Master Pakku in the Northern Water Tribe, I’m a master combat water bender. Teach me. I can do it.” the bender looked Hui Yin right in the eyes, “Teach me to heal my brother, please.” her eyes were hard, resolute. 

“I can’t. I’m not a water bender.” 

“Teach me what to look for, teach me how to heal. I know how to bend, teach me what needs to be healed.” 

Hui Yin turned to Nian Zhen, who looked sceptical. 

“This isn’t something to mess around with, kid. We’re not freezing people, this isn’t something as simple as making icicles.” Yae Song sounded tired. Her voice falling, Hui Yin knew her nurse was thinking of all the ways this could go wrong. How even the slightest amount of water in the lungs can lead to death, especially with someone so close already. How if a bone isn’t properly set it won’t heal right. Or how nerves can be damaged at the slightest touch, feeling and sensations lost forever. There were too many things, infinite things, that could go wrong, and those were all below the neck. This kid clearly had skull damage. Flat bones, like those in the skull, are formed differently. They’re light and dense at the same time, practically hollow compared to the long bones this kid was used to healing. It’d be like trying to fix a piece of glass compared to a log. Hui Yin shook her head. 

“I can heal burns, I healed him before he got here, teach me to _save my brother._ ” the girl pleaded, but her stance was rooted, her hands balled into fists, chest out, looking straight into Hui Yin, challenging her. 

“It’s too dangerous. I can’t teach you.” before Hui Yin could finish the girl started to yell, “I CAN DO IT! HE’S MY BROTHER, HE’S THE ONLY ONE I HAVE! I AM A MASTER WATER BENDER! I WILL HEAL HIM! HE HAS TO BE HEALED!” 

Yae Song pressed her fingers to her temples, Ming Je rolled his eyes, Nian Zhen wanted to go home. 

“AS I WAS SAYING.” Hui Yin continued, the girl's mouth snapped shut, “I can’t teach you to waterbend. But I can try to teach you medicine and what I know of medicine, but I can’t teach you waterbending, and you WILL NOT go near your brother until you AT LEAST know first aid.” Hui Yin finished, staring right back at the girl, this was her clinic. If a brat wanted to yell, they could do it elsewhere. She had people that needed help and loud children that didn’t listen got put outside. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Learning to heal was probably the hardest thing Katara had ever done. Waterbending with Master Pakku was like breathing, the water moved with her, she didn’t need to do anything. It was like the water knew where she was going before she even did. They pushed and pulled each other, balanced, there was no reason to talk, her and water just _knew_ . Healing was different though. Healing was a conversation. Coaxing, and convincing, trying to get the water to work with her to feel things that felt _wrong_ . Like how Sokka’s bones had felt rough, or how the burns on her hands had felt sticky.

Learning to heal was like learning how to talk in a language she recognized but didn’t understand. It didn’t help that Aang and Toph were both trying to learn with her, they both picked things up quickly, she didn't need to add embarrassment to her mounting shame. She needed to know healing ages ago. She _should have_ known healing ages ago. Katara hated herself, if she had just stayed with Yugoda for a bit longer maybe she’d be able to heal Sokka, maybe Sokka could have already been healed, but no. She had stormed out, insulted, and threw everything that Yugoda had tried to teach her back in her face. Katara hated herself, but didn’t regret focusing on combat. Combat was still the priority, still the ending to the bending story that they were all on. Aang had to defeat Ozai. You can’t defeat someone by healing them. Still though, she wished she could learn faster. 

Toph and Aang were learning the basics of healing,starting with disinfecting and different ways to stop bleeding. Toph was learning with Yae Song, another earth bender, they were focused on how to set different kinds of breaks, and how earth bending was used to keep people stable, especially during transport. Aang was focusing on something with Ming Je, Katara had stopped following them when Nian Zhen came over to her with an arm full of scrolls. Hui Yin was teaching her about types of breaks and cuts, the things Sokka had. Sokka's back was covered in lacerations, Hui Yin said they looked like whip marks. Katara had vomited when she saw them. They focused on learning to heal those first. That was easy, she knew how to do those, she knew the language of closing skin, how to talk and ask the water to pull the skin closed. Hui Yin and her worked on disinfecting and cleaning the gashes first, and then Katara set about healing them. The feeling of the healing water was second nature now. She tried to constantly keep at least one hand covered and ready, she told Hui Yin it was so she could increase her stamina.

Really though, it was so if Sokka crashed again, this time, she would be ready. 

With Sokka’s back now fully healed, Katara focused on bones. There were more types of bones and fractures and breaks than she could have imagined. Different breaks meant different internal injuries which meant different methods of healing which meant different methods of recovery. Crushed bones could leave particles of bone deep in the muscle, compound fractures got infected as soon as they happened, impacted fractures, spiral fractures, there were so many things that could happen that she could heal but she had been too arrogant to learn. Katara pushed her self hatred down, now was not the time. Right now, she needed to learn. Sokka needed her to learn. Aang and Toph needed her to learn. There was no time for self hatred or regret. She was here now, learning, and she needed to focus on that.

It was hard though, she had thought that she had known enough. She had helped deliver babies back home, she had healed cuts and scrapes, she had helped Sokka with his stupid fishing hooks. She knew things. She did. She just didn’t know enough, and that was what hurt. Katara shook her head, telling herself to stop thinking and to just _learn._ She refocused on the scroll in front of her, one that Ming Je had given her to look at that described cranial anatomy. Hui Yin had told her it looked like Sokka could have an orbital fracture, they wouldn’t know for sure until they woke him up. Right now, it was safer for Sokka to be asleep, he had woken up once more since they had been at the clinic and things hadn’t gone well. Since then, they kept him sedated; it made treatment easier, but seeing her brother lying there was getting hard. Katara gave herself a few seconds to lean back and stretch, looking towards Sokka and watching him breathe - making sure he _was_ breathing, before going back to her scholl. There was a lot to learn. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka became aware of himself.

He didn’t wake up _(he didn't think that he had been asleep)_ and it wasn’t that he had opened his eyes, he was just suddenly aware that he existed.

He wasn’t falling anymore.

He looked around, trying not to move too much from where he had suddenly become aware of himself.

He was standing in a courtyard. Dark wood pillars towered around him. Gold arches stretched between the pillars, trailing along the tops of the pillars and along the beams they supported. For the time, it was quiet. Serene. Sokka walked along the hallway, his footsteps silent, not wanting to disturb the quietness that he had come into. There were no trees around him, no people either. Just him, haunting the halls of a seemingly abandoned palace. He walked, turning a corner to find a massive wooden door, bigger than anything he’d ever seen before. Bigger than his igloo back home, big enough that Appa could fit through with plenty of room to spare on all sides. The dark red wood loomed in front of him, black iron studded the top and bottom of the door with iron handles that just sat there begging to be tugged open. A beautifully ornate gold dragon rested in the center of the door. Wider than he was tall, the dragon looped and curled over itself, twisting through golden clouds and spilling over both halves of the door. It’s golden, eyeless face stared at him.

Sokka reached out, slowly, not wanting to make even the smallest of noises. Something deep inside of him told him that if he did, it would be the single worst thing he could ever do. That once he made even the smallest peep, it was over. He didn’t know _what_ exactly would be over, just that it would be. That he could never come back to this, never get to see what was beyond the door. So he didn’t. He moved slowly, silently, until his fingers touched gold and then it was like someone had pulled him out of the water; suddenly there was heat and noise, the sensations crashed and fell into him. He hadn't realized he couldn't feel or hear until he could again. Sokka took in a deep, shuddering breath. Staying as silent as he could, he let his arm fall, fingers still trailing along the gold of the dragon, until the gold ended and the iron handle sat there in hand. He glanced back up to the eyeless god, and then back down at his hand, the iron was rough, heavy, and hot, it felt nothing like the cool softness of the dragon. He decided that was because of science and metals, not because of anything else, and then decided again to stop thinking about the mystery metals and regaining senses that couldn't be lost. Those thoughts led to other questions and theories he didn't want to think about. He focused back on the door.

He pulled. 

It moved. 

He pulled again and the door swung open. Before he could think, Sokka stepped over and into the next hall. The door closed silently behind him, and he turned, reaching up he placed his hand where he knew the dragon was on the other side. His head fell forward, forehead touching the spot at the very base of the dragon, where its bottom foot connected with a cloud, and silently sent a thank you to it. He knew then, deep in his bones, that he wasn’t supposed to be there. He was trespassing into something, seeing things he shouldn’t be able to. He thanked the dragon once more, for allowing him beyond the door, and stepped back into the hallway.

When he turned around he realized it wasn’t a hallway, it was another courtyard.

Except, this courtyard had people in it.

At least three people that he could see, maybe more. 

He got closer. 

And closer, the courtyard was massive, he was running now, trying to get near them - he had to get closer, if he didn’t something was going to _happen_. 

That’s when he saw it. The two figures in the middle of the courtyard, Sokka choked on his breath - _Zuko_. 

A figure moved in the corner of his eye, a figure in _blue_ , on the other side of the courtyard. If Zuko was here, and he was where he thinks he is, that means - 

Katara. 

She stood there, behind a pillar on the other side of him, blue parka sticking out against the red like a beacon. He skidded on pale, smooth stone towards the fighting. He tried to run down the steps to the courtyard but slammed into a wall so hard his vision swam. He couldn’t move, there was nothing in front of him, but _he couldn’t move_. He started banging, punching the thing in front of him. Screaming for Katara to look at him, begging Zuko to be careful, that Azula was insane, to let him out so he could help. They couldn’t hear him. Didn't even acknowledge him. He screamed until he couldn’t, he tried to run to the other side of the courtyard through the different hallways, keeping an eye on the fight the whole time, never taking his eyes off of them.

Zuko was amazing. Sokka had never seen him like this, he moved with a fierce grace, fluid, controlled, confident. His face set, determined. Zuko faced Azula; moving with her, matching her. Sokka was mesmerized. Giant swathes of blue and red painted the sky and filled the courtyard. For a brief moment, Sokka understood what Zuko had meant when he said that fire was life. His flames _moved_. They _lived_. Their fight was the most beautifully terrifying thing he had ever seen. 

Sokka stood, awestruck. It was more like a dance than a fight. Zuko bounced and dodged, stepping forward with power. He flipped and tumbled, gracing the ground with his feet for a moment before moving into the next form. Sokka couldn't look away if he had wanted to, he stood there, hands pressed against the wall he couldn't see, hypnotized. He saw Azula saying something, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying or what they were saying to each other.

Sokka could only watch, hoarse and trapped, as Azula spun her arms.

Sokka stood up straighter.

Something was wrong. Zuko could handle lightning, he knew that - he did. He had watched Zuko do it before, had watched Zuko teach Aang redirection, he _knew_ Zuko could handle this. His heart beat faster, sinking into his stomach. Zuko could handle lightning redirection, but Sokka didn't know if Zuko could handle _this_ Azula's lightning. This Azula wasn't thinking anymore, she shouldn't be able to do lightning - Zuko had told him that you have to be in perfect harmony with yourself or else you would _explode_. This Azula was the furthest thing he could think of from stable. It hit Sokka, Azula wasn't going to shoot Zuko. That's what a sane, respectable - _honorable -_ person taking down an enemy in single hand-to-hand combat would do. Azula wasn't sane though. Something on Sokka clicked, she was going to shoot someone else. Sokka's heart stopped. Azula was going to shoot Katara. 

  
  


Sokka stood. 

  
  


Zuko rooted his stance. 

  
  


Azula shot lightning. 

  
  


Azula shot lightning at Katara. Sokka didn’t even have time to scream. He slammed into the invisible wall, his fists bloody from trying to escape. 

Sokka watched, horrified, as Zuko threw himself at the lightning; catching it, and exploding out of him from where he had slammed into the ground, in a huge crackling wave of light and heat.

Zuko didn’t get up. 

Katara ran to him, crashing into the ground next to him, hands already covered in glowing water. She had only gotten one hand on Zuko’s crumpled body when Azula filled the courtyard with blue fire. 

  
  


Sokka watched in abject horror. 

  
  


Zuko didn’t get up. 

  
  


Katara stood, leaving Zuko in his small broken pile, tears falling from her face, burns on her arms. 

  
  


Azula leaned back and _roared_. Blue fire erupting out of her, he could see her screaming from where he stood, invisible on the steps into the courtyard. Katara was fighting her now. Swift, lethal movements, aided by fury and agony - Katara was ruthless. Her fight against Azula was as brutal and desperate as Zuko’s had been beautiful. 

Zuko, the broken, beautiful, boy. The one that Sokka had hated for so long, who had hurt him so much, the one that had become his closest friend, the one that was more hurt than any of them but still tried so damn hard. Zuko who never gave up but gave up everything of himself. Zuko who always got up. 

Zuko didn’t get up.

Zuko wasn’t going to get up.

Sokka knew that now. 

  
  


Katara fought. Ice and water smothered Azula, slicing, freezing, blinding her. But she battled back. Azula fought like a caged, rabid animal. Her control and sanity were gone, all that was left was raw comet induced power and her own madness. Katara froze one of Azula’s legs up to her calf, tripping her, and shot out an ice whip. The next thing Sokka could see was Azula holding the side of her throat, red leaking between her fingers, before she started laughing and screaming something at Katara. Azula reached up into her hair and pulled out a small, thin, kunai. Still holding her throat, Azula threw.

Katara fell.

Sokka watched.

Azula screamed, laughing, and exploded into blue light. 

  
  
  
  


Katara died fighting. Azula died laughing. Zuko died quietly. Sokka watched. 

  
  
  


Sokka closed his eyes, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He beat his fist against the invisible wall, he had no strength left. He leaned his forehead on it, eyes closed, not wanting to see anything anymore. He unclenched his fists and sank down to his knees. He was too tired to scream. 

  
  


A very long ways away, a spirit started to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright y'all, things are gonna start getting real real
> 
> thank you for reading and commenting, it genuinely makes me so happy and i am so grateful so you all get internet affection from afar ~ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	4. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka may or may not be jealous of himself, and also may or may not appreciate a certain someone's flair for pyrotechnics and dramatic (some might even say theatrical) plans.

Chapter 4

Waking

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

The air around him is warm. 

A little too warm for his liking, but it was better than being too cold. He missed the cold though, the crisp ozone smell of snow, the way the wind made his eyes water, the sound the kids made throwing snowballs at each other - yea. He missed the cold. He missed the cold and everything (one) that came with it. His heart ached, his whole body did really. He _hurt_. 

Sokka wanted to open his eyes. He did, but if he did then that meant _things._ So he didn’t. Not yet. He had to think first.

He hurt. Which means he was not human paste coating a burnt forest floor. Which meant he was alive. You had to be alive to hurt, right? You couldn’t be in chunks and be alive and hurt. Could you? People with amputations could still get phantom pains, was he having phantom pains?? But could you have internal phantom pains, his insides and gooey bits hurt - can you get phantom pains for those? Not the point, focus. If he hurt, that meant that his body was still functioning to some degree. Which meant that he was some degree of alive. Which by itself was too much to think about. He was alive to some degree. How alive was still up for debate, but considering that he was thinking and feeling, he was definitely kind-of-maybe-possibly-alive.

Ok. Ok, not the time to panic, time to find out other things first, and then panic when he knew how much alive he was and where he was, because he could be alive, but in some kind of Fire Nation prison, and having a full almost-maybe-alive-panic attack in front of Fire Nation soldiers was not something high on his list of things to do. 

So, instead, he tried to feel what he was lying on - if it was ground, that meant that he was still in the Earth Kingdom and smeared on the forest floor. If it was anything else, that meant other things.

It wasn’t ground. 

He felt his heart do a weird thing, like a half beat with a twist of “oh _fuck_ ”, that didn’t feel particularly healthy, but health was the least of his concerns right now; to be alive enough to feel his heart do whatever the fuck it just did - that was something he was putting off until he knew where he was. At the very least. 

So.

Not ground. He wasn’t tartar-ed on the forest floor. Or some sad bastard had to scrape Sokka tartar off shrubbery and deliver it back to wherever he was. Wherever he was though, had really soft sheets. Which meant that wherever he was, wasn’t a prison. Or if it was a prison, it was very comfortable, and he wanted to give his regards to the quartermaster. Either way, he wasn’t smeared on the ground, or chained (so far), or in a cell, or in a human puddle somewhere in the middle of the Earth Kingdom wilderness. Sokka took a breath and narrowed his thoughts down; soft sheets likely meant somewhere well off, not a soldier patrol or somewhere on a military ship, nor was it likely that someone off the road had picked him up and brought him home. People wandering around the middle of an Earth Kingdom forest tend not to be people that come home to sheets like this or a bed like this. That left upper class. Soft sheets and warm air, no chains, definitely upper class. The question was where though; if he was in Earth Kingdom that meant he had a higher likelihood of being kept by someone on their side, if he was trapped by Fire Nation then he wouldn’t be trapped like this. Fire Nation meant chains and definitely no soft sheets. 

Fire Nation. 

The thought stopped Sokka cold. The whole world would be Fire Nation now. They had failed. Sokka had been sopped up and mushed back together into a bed, but the Fire Nation had won. Toph had died, had plummeted from thousands of feet up and had died in his arms. He wasn’t sure about what had happened to Katara or Zuko, but the dream he had replayed through his head. It left nothing but spine numbing fear - but there’s _no way_ that what he had seen had been what had happened. No way. Katara and Zuko had won, they had to have. He refused to even think about it. 

Sokka turned back to thinking about where he was, 

Soft sheets, warm air, no smell of smoke, but no smell of anything else noticeable (though it did smell clean?), no voices, no swaying - that meant that he wasn’t on a ship. The room or whatever he was in didn't feel pressurized either, so he wasn't up in the air, or deep underwater. Sokka had no idea where he was. After everything that had happened, it was not a good feeling. If he couldn’t figure out where he was by just feeling what was around him, that meant that he had to open his eyes. And that meant confronting the fact that he was A) currently alive enough to do that, B) somewhere he didn’t recognize that was potentially an enemy camp. A high class camp, but an enemy high class camp nonetheless. 

He opened his eyes. 

It was too bright for him to see clearly at first, it felt like he had walked out to the ice plains in the middle of the summer sun - light so bright it was white and that seared into his eyes. He blinked, his eyes watering at the sight - dark brown criss crossed above him, light seeped in through the slats at the bottom, the cool creamy white stone at the end of the room met the dark wood in front of him. Sokka rolled his head to the other side, facing away from the dark wood of the wall, and looked out into the rest of the room. There was a series of intricately carved wooden shutters, some of which had doubled as doors and had been folded back to reveal a tiny balcony, barely bigger than a glorified window sill, directly across from him. Near his feet, there was a second bed, and in between him and the bed was a bench. Everything other than the walls and the balcony were made out of the same deep brown wood, he couldn’t tell from where he was lying if the rest of the wood had the same intricate designs as the shutters, but he could guess that if they didn’t that they were equally high quality. 

Now was not the time to be thinking about wood quality. 

Now was the time to be thinking about how he was going to escape. 

The balcony was his first choice, though he didn’t know how high up he was. That could be a problem. Seeing as how he never wanted to be off the ground ever again. Didn’t even want to try jumping, if he was honest. Ok, so balcony was a no go, no ever go, a no-never-nah-uh-go. The lastest of resorts. Sokka needed to think about things other than being high up, anything else, anything else at all.

Back to the wood - Fire Nation didn’t use wood. Flammable stuff was not high up on their building material list. Which means that he was in the Earth Kingdom. Good, good, ok, he could work with this. Upper class Earth Kingdom. Means that they probably know the Beifongs, which was actually not good, at all, now that he thinks about it. 

His arms feel too light, his heart too heavy. 

He _hurt._

It occurred to him that he should see how the rest of him was, so, Sokka took a second to feel his body. Everything hurt. Everything hurt _a lot_. He knew that he was going to hurt, but this was something else. Getting slammed into the earth was not fun, zero out of ten. No stars, will not do again.

Sokka tried turning his head the other way, away from the shutters and the balcony, back towards the wooden wall. Good. He could move his head side from to side, see out of both eyes, and open his eyes. He moved lower, felt himself breath and mentally noted where he hurt. Sokka tried shrugging his shoulders, right side was good, left side he never wanted to move again. He could do it, but it felt like when meat froze during winter and he could crack and crumble it apart in his hands. So no moving, moving bad. Sokka moved lower again, this time twisting his arms, palm side in to palm side out, up and then down, left and then right - movement clear, pain manageable. He didn’t want to mess with his back, too scared about what could or could not be paralyzed, so he moved to his feet. Wiggling his toes one by one until he got all the way across, and then moved up to his ankles. Flexing and moving until he had all angles and rotations covered, knew where things hurt the worst and where he didn’t feel anything. Knees, bent and didn’t hurt too much - wasn’t great but he could be worse. He moved onto his hips, he moved one knee up, foot flat, and let his hip drop to the outside - not fun, manageable, but he could wait a long time before doing that again. He moved his leg back down and started the same movement on the other side, knee up, foot flat, hip drop, hate himself forever for making himself do that. 

Sokka started to keep a mental tally of what hurt, from ‘this is relatively normal’ to ‘I would rather not have this be part of my body anymore’. The biggest problems were his left shoulder, his fingers, and his general rib area, he could deal with everything else. He was alive, he could figure out a way to manage. Zuko had managed to _swim_ into the Northern Water tribe after being blown up, if Zuko could do it, then he could too. Sokka tried to take a deeper breath, and nearly passed out from the pain. Ribs shouldn’t make noises like that. His ribs should not make crackle noises and make him see colors that weren’t there just when he wanted to breathe.

He had to get up though, he had to get up and figure out a way to get out. If he could breathe and move, that meant he could _get out_.

So he tried again, this time he knew that the pain was coming - he could do it. He could deal with it. He couldn’t say that he had had worse, but he could _deal with it._ He had no idea how long he had been lying there. Last time he had checked, his leg was broken, and now - it wasn’t. Last time he was human chum, now he wasn’t. Too much time had passed. He had to leave, and he had to do it now. There was no one in the room with him. He didn’t have any broken bones in his legs (or anywhere, that he could tell), there was nothing stopping him - other than being able to sit up and get up. And he needed to _get the fuck up Sokka._

He tried again, this time holding his breath. If breathing hurt then he just wouldn’t. Easy. Holding his breath, Sokka tried to sit up; he got maybe a few inches off the bed before his vision whited out and he collapsed back onto the bed, a small involuntary breath of pain escaping him. Sitting was bad, he was never going to do it again. So was breathing, he hated breathing, breathing hurt. He was never going to sit and most definitely never going to breath ever again. Instead, he closed his eyes. Sokka thought about all the different ways that Aang would have for escaping, how Toph would scoff and boulder herself away, how Katara would call him an idiot and then gently suggest something else, how he would give anything to hear them again. 

Sokka cried. 

He let the tears roll down the side of his face, and he mourned.

He cried for Toph and Aang, both too young to die such violent deaths. They had just wanted to do good, to live life free of oppression and death. They were so _young._

He cried for Suki, brave and wonderful Suki. His beautiful warrior, selfless and courageous, who fought until she couldn’t. He loved her, he always would.

He cried for Katara, his baby sister. The tiny girl he had helped raise, the one that used to fit on his chest, who used to be able to fit her whole body in the crook of his arm. The chubby cheeked girl that he had been watching turn into a brilliant woman. His baby girl, his beautiful, powerful, strong baby sister that was gone now. Sokka didn’t even know if she was alive. All he could see was her falling and Azula laughing and then nothing but _blue_.

He used to love the color, it was the color of home. His eyes were blue, the ocean was blue, Katara's parka was blue. Everything he loved was the color of _her f_ _ire._

He hated himself.

He cried for Zuko. Zuko who fought too hard, who cared too much, who died saving his sister.

Sokka cried for his father, for his mother, for Bato, people he loved and didn’t know if he would ever see again.

He sobbed for Yue. For the people he couldn’t save, that didn’t want to be saved. He cried until he had nothing left in him, until his eyes hurt and his head felt heavy. Sokka fell asleep on a wet pillow and dreamt of nothing. 

When Sokka woke next, it was to the sound of people arguing. 

People that should be dead, arguing. One who he had watched die, the other he had held. Aang and Toph were arguing. In the same room. Next to his bed. He could reach out, and touch one of them. Sokka decided he had gone insane. Or that he had actually died, and now was in some kind of weird limbo afterlife. He was not a fan of either of these options. 

“Shut up Aang! You’re gonna wake him up!”

“You shut up! You’re gonna wake him up with your yelling!” That was Aang. Aang was whisper-yelling at Toph. Sokka's head hurt.

“I’m gonna shut you both up if you don’t shut up!” good ol Katara, it was actually kind of nice to hear her yell at other people, in a weird kind of way. “Dr. Yin said that I could heal him today! So both of you need to shut up so I can focus!” Sokka never thought that he would have missed her yelling voice, but now he would give _anything_ to hear it again. Sokka opened his eyes, he wasn’t quite sure when he had fallen asleep, but if he was dreaming right now, he didn’t want to wake up. 

“SOKKA” Toph gasped, 

“What did I JUST tell you?!” Katara yelled 

“HE’S AWAKE” Toph was nearly screeching at this point, Sokka had never heard anything quite like it. It made his head ring, it hurt but he would listen to it for as long as he could get if it meant that he hadn't killed her. 

“What? Toph don’t joke. That’s not funny.” but Toph had already bent her way through the wall that they had apparently been just outside of, leading a herd of Katara and Aang right behind her. Sokka could only lie there and watch the chaos unfold, Toph bending a door, Aang trying to zip through with airbending, Katara trying to maintain some sort of order while being too nervous to look at her brother, and two strangers behind that were clearly the adults and potential owners of wherever he was. 

Sokka raised his hand and waved a little. 

Katara burst into tears. Aang and Toph close behind. The two adults walked over to him, through the hole-door that Toph had made, where he was now covered in crying children, and started to ask him about how he was feeling at the same time that Aang and Katara started asking questions. 

“What happened to you?? Why did you go off alone, why couldn’t you wait for one of us? Don’t you trust us?”

“We found you in an alley, you were going after the Dai Li, you said that they had Appa and then you were gone for four days and then when we found you you died -”

“How long have I been out? How are you alive? I watched your fight with Ozai - what happened? And you!! We were falling, how are you here?? Are you ok? What happened??” 

“Sokka calm down, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“What day is it? Where are we? I was gone for four days? Wait - Appas missing again??”

“Ok ok ok, let’s all calm down." The tall lady with close cropped hair spoke over them, "Sokka, I'm Dr. Hui Yin, you're in my clinic in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se. You’ve been asleep for a little over a week. It is April 29th, Aanga, Katara, and Toph brought you in on the night of the 20th. You have been severely injured, while we have healed you for now, it is still dangerous for you to move around. Now that you're awake we need to get a better look at you. First off, does anything hurt right now? Do you feel dizzy or nauseous? Do you have any memory of what happened?”

“My left shoulder, ribs, and fingers are the worst. No dizziness or nausea. The last thing I remember is falling, Toph and I were on an airship, we were hit and listed to the side, we fell.” 

“That’s impossible. We’ve been in Ba Sing Se for almost a month now, trying to find Appa. You and Toph have been here the whole time, except for when you went missing.” Katara shook her head, arms wrapped around herself. 

“And I’m telling you that that’s impossible. That happened ages ago. We found Appa, you and Zuko took him to defeat Azula like, three days ago." Sokka stared at his sister like she had gone insane, because obviously that is what happened. His beautiful baby sister was crazy, he suddenly felt a deep kinship with Zuko. 

“WHAT?? Zuko and I did WHAT??!” Katara shrieked, one hand flew up to her chest, looking like it was _Sokka_ who was the crazy person. Poor crazy baby sister. 

“He’s good now Katara! Don’t be rude!! You guys got all your shit worked out!” He wished that he could at least sit up so he could gesture at her just how bonkers she was being. 

“What are you _talking about???_ How can I meet someone that’s dead?? That’s been dead for YEARS??” Katara's eyebrows were doing the _thing._ Sokka didn't know how to handle that. This only happened when she was really, really, done with his nonsense. But that would mean that he was being the nonsense one, and that was wrong. Katara was. 

“WHAT???! What happened to Zuko????” 

“What do you mean what???” 

“I mean what!! What happened to Zuko!!” Sokka was really starting to panic now, what was _wrong with everyone_. Why were they letting Katara say that?? Why was no one else _freaking out??_

“He got banished years ago and no one’s heard from him since!! No one’s even seen the guy since he was little!” It felt like Katara had wrung out his pants over his head again. Or like that time Momo had dropped rotten fruit on his head, Sokka stilled.

“But he’s been chasing us for ages.” His stomach felt weird, like he could feel his body trying to purge the words from his body. The slow heat of bile climbing up inside him. 

“No that’s Zhao. Zhao has been chasing us to try and capture us and give us to Ozai. Azula has been holding him off for us, but we haven’t seen her in a while and I’m starting to get worried. The news coming out of Fire Nation is all kinds of crazy, we don't know how Iroh's side is doing or how batshit Ozai has gotten. Are you ok? What else do you remember?"

“What.” Sokka was going to be sick

“Yea, we haven’t seen her since before the library. The last news we had heard was that Ozai had finally completely taken Shuhon Island.” Aang piped in, looking just as confused and concerned as Katara.

“WHAT”

“Why are you being like this? Is your head ok? Did you lose your memory??” Katara started to poke and grab at his head

“What, no. What are you talking about?? You guys are the crazy ones, Azula is INSANE she shot Iroh with LIGHTNING she’s tried to kill us more than Zuko has!! Like actually really kill us!! And what are you talking about?? Ozai took over an island?? He's firelord!?? Invading the known world??? Killing innocents and other dastardly deeds?!”

“Ming Je, is this normal for someone that’s suffered brain trauma?” 

“There can be memory complications, but we’ll have to run a few more tests to be sure.” The guy standing at the foot of his bed answered, eyes crinkled in concern. The short haired lady ( _Dr. Yin she had said?_ there was a lot going on, Sokka couldn't keep up) next to him was staring at him intensely, it made him feel like he was being inspected. 

“This is insane. I’ve gone insane. I have either died, or have gone completely insane.”

“Not funny. Don’t joke about dying.”

“Then stop acting crazy!!”

“I AM NOT ACTING CRAZY! YOU DIED SOKKA. YOUR HEART STOPPED AND YOU _DIED_ . DO _NOT_ JOKE ABOUT DYING EVER. IT IS NOT **_FUNNY._ **” Katara’s eyes were glassy, and tears started to trickle down her cheeks, Sokka’s heart breaks. 

“Katara, Kat, nonono, don’t cry, come here, don’t cry please - c’mere” Sokka holds his right arm out to her, from where he’s still lying down on the bed. “C’mere, please, please no more crying.”

“You were gone Sokka, you died right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything. _You_ _**died**. _ ” she’s crying harder now “Nian Zhen had to give you CPR because your heart stopped and then you couldn’t even breathe by yourself once they got you back - you _died_ for so long, I didn’t think that we’d get you back.” she’s sobbing now, Sokka looks up; Aang and Toph are hovering behind Katara, Sokka lifts his arm to beckon them over too, they come rushing in, their gentle chaos a welcome sight. 

* * *

Aang was worried about Katara.

They were all learning about healing from medics, Aang genuinely enjoyed learning from them. They were serious and a lot intimidating, but they were good people doing hard work and he respected them. Katara though, was obsessing. It was killing him to watch. She didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't do anything other than study and practice. Hui Yin had given Katara a bunch of oranges and some pig-chicken with cuts in them to practice suturing. Katara hadn't stopped until Aang had physically taken things out of her hands, even then she had gotten angry at him. Really angry. Angry enough that he hadn't tried it again. She just didn't _stop_ \- everything she did was about studying and learning healing. The only time she had left the clinic was to go to the library to see if she could find more scrolls on healing. It was everything that she did. Everything.

Aang was _really worried._

When they had decided to try and follow Sokka's trail, he had never expected to find what they did. None of them did. It was something out of a nightmare. Aang hadn't even seen all of it. Katara had called out to him to go get help and he had gone as fast as he could, without causing damage, to the nearest medical _anything._ All he had seen was someone in blue, not moving, at the end of an alley. He had thought they were sleeping, maybe someone else from one of the water tribes - like when they had found Bato. But it was _so much worse._ The thing that he had seen in the alley was slumped over so far that they were nearly folded in half, the whole alley smelled like metal and rotten fruit. It was sweet, sickly metallic - the cold of the early spring night had made everything _crisper._ His breath had snapped into him when he realized what he was seeing. The only thing that had supported the person was a pile of compost, everything else hung loosely. Aang had turned and ran at the same time that Katara had started to move towards who ever was there. He had to be fast. He couldn't let someone else die. He couldn't kill anyone else. He was so tired of death. So he had ran. He flew, racing past people and food stands until he blew into the closest medical clinic that he could. 

"HELP, PLEASE SOMEONE HELP, THEY'RE HURT PLEASE COME THEY'RE HURT" Aang didn't know what to say to convince someone to come with him to save someone in an alley

"Who? Where?" Several heads from around the clinic popped up, 

"I'll take you just please come FAST" He was still in the doorway, pleading to the medics, one lady grabbed a bag and ran towards him.

Aang took the woman with him, grabbing her arm and flying out the door. They were back to the alley in what felt like seconds. Katara was on the ground next to the body, and that's when Aang saw who it was. 

" _Sokka"_ It was one of the worst things Aang had ever seen. The medic next to him sucked in a breath through her teeth. 

"Ok, we have get him stabilized and transported back to the clinic immediately." the medic moved to Katara and Sokka

"Got it, tell me what to do." Toph had come up alongside him, Aang had never wished to be a master earth bender more than he had in that moment. He felt useless. He couldn't heal, couldn't help - he just stood there and tried not to hurt Sokka. He hated himself. Wished he was better, older, wiser - anything than what he was right then. 

"You have to be gentle, if you move him too much you could paralyze him. Secure his head and neck, make sure his back is immobilized. He shouldn't be able to move, we've got him flat on the ground so try not to move him too much from where he is now, any more movement and we could lose him." The medic got down on the opposite side of Katara, touching his neck, feeling for things he didn't know.

"Got it." Toph worked her feet into the ground, and slowly brought up a piece of stone about two inches thick all around Sokka's head and neck. Perfectly sculpting around him, like he had sunk into stone colored snow. Toph lowered him further, or brought the stone up, Aang didn't know, and wrapped it around him. Locking in his whole body into a two inch border of stone. Aang was _jealous._ Toph was beyond a master, beyond a prodigy. Aang didn't know what she was, but she was better than what those titles had. Master implied that she knew her element, prodigy meant she was good at it. Toph was better than good and she didn't just know earth, she _was_ it. She was the human embodiment; she was steadfast and honest, she had convictions and stuck to them - unmoveable, all encompassing. Toph was earth and then some. 

"Perfect, can you make a board so we can lift him up and move him?"

"I can do better. Hold on." Toph lifted them all up, onto some sort of cart platform - flat where Katara and the medic were working but where Toph was standing was sloped, like an avalanche. Then she started running, her feet never leaving the earth beneath her. With each step she took their whole rock cart sped forward, out of the alley and into the street. She earth bent their way around pedestrians and food stalls, rock moving like water as they barreled through the streets, Aang and the medic shouting directions back to the clinic. People screamed and stared, the tiny mountain they were on a spectacle of proportions he didn't want to think about. They had been trying to hide from the Dai Li. Trying to do things the way that Sokka had said, to be quiet, inconspicuous, get in and get out. Now he didn't even know if Sokka was alive. Aang _hated_ himself. 

After they lost Sokka, Katara had collapsed. Aang watched her stand up, and try to walk towards them. He never wanted to see her move like that again. It was like someone else inside of her was moving, she had jerked and fell forward - Aang had been terrified that they were going to lose her too. When she had looked him dead in the eye and whispered "Dai Li" like it was going to be her last words, he could do nothing but hold her unconscious body in his arms and pray to the spirits that she would wake up. Sokka was dying on a bed, Katara was unconscious in his arms, and Toph was _shaking_. He was in a nightmare. Aang wanted to curse the spirits. He wanted to _so badly._ But he couldn't. Instead, he bargained with them. If Sokka got better and Katara woke up, he would do everything, **_everything_** , he could to make himself better and to stop Ozai. He would train harder, and longer. He would do what was needed, not what he wanted. Aang believed with everything that he was that life was precious, that it was a gift - but if doing everything and anything he could to stop Ozai meant "returning" that gift, he would. He would give up whatever the spirits wanted if it meant that he could have Sokka and Katara back. It wasn't like the air nomads. They were gone, long gone. He could never have them back. They could never come back. He knew that, even though sometimes he forgot, he had come to accept it. He would mourn them for as long as he lived and would love them for longer, but they were _gone._ Sokka and Katara were right there. He was _holding_ Katara, she was still warm, she was breathing, but he needed her awake and back with him. He and Toph _needed_ her. They needed both of them. It was wrong to go on without Sokka. It unsettled something deep inside him, made him feel off balance. The past couple of days without Sokka had made him feel weird, bad weird. He never wanted to feel like that again. He never wanted to see Katara go through that again. Never wanted to see anything like Katara losing herself ever again. The first day she was annoyed and angry, the second day she was furious but worried, by the third day that Sokka had been missing, Katara had been beyond frantic. It had been bad. She hadn't slept, barely ate, didn't bathe - just looked for Sokka constantly. She tried summoning a spirit at one point, that had been after the dowsing rods. Even he didn't believe in those. She took anything she could find that worked for tracking or finding or locating and threw everything she had at it. Aang was weirdly glad that she was asleep right now, that she was sleeping, not glad that she was unconscious. But Katara needed the rest, especially now that he knew she wasn't going to be getting anytime soon. 

When Sokka died, a part of Aang did too. 

Aang couldn't describe it. A part of him, that he had thought was sacred, unflinching, unchanging, was gone. Maybe it was from seeing what the Dai Li had done to Sokka. Or it was from the Fire Nation mercilessly killing all of his people. Or it was from him, and all those people in the Northern Water Tribe. Something inside him broke, he felt heavier. Maybe it had built up, seeing how people lived - the brutality, the violence, the poor and dying - how no one _helped_. Aang didn't know what happened, but he wasn't the person he was before that night in the alley. He saw things that he was astounded he had missed before. How had he been so _naive?_ The kids that he played with in the street, the food stalls with an extra tarp over the side, houses and families where there were no homes. Those people on the street that he thought were sleeping. How had he walked by? The villages that they had passed on the way here, how had he taken everything that they had given him without a second thought? Those people that he knew had nothing, that wore the same clothes, ate congee that was more water than rice because _there was no rice._ And he had taken all that they had to give. He was supposed to protect these people, all of those villages, all of those people needed him and he had done nothing but _take._ Aang felt sick. How could he have been so pathetically naive? That part of him was gone now. He would take nothing more. Nothing more from the people. He knew that even that was a lofty, idealist view. It sounded like something a story book would say. Some greatly spun tale that Gyatso would regale to him on a stormy night. He couldn't promise that he wouldn't take, but he would do his damnedest. The weight of those he had killed would chain him to his words. Contrary to belief, Aang knew what would happen when you get hit by hurricane level winds into solid objects. He just didn't like to think about it. Somehow though, the him now, didn't understand that logic. Those were lives that _he_ took. He _should_ think about them. They were a part of his life now. He carried them with him wherever he went now. He had taken their life, it was only right for them to come along with him for his. 

When Sokka woke up, Aang was a different person. Little did he know, that Sokka was too. 

* * *

Sokka feels like he’s in a dream.

A very strange, hyper-realistic dream. Katara is here, Aang is here (but taller than he remembers), Toph is here, they’re all together and it’s the greatest he’s felt in ages but it’s _wrong._ They lost the war, he was there, he knows, he remembers - he was the one that planned it.

He had fought and died.

That’s not something you forget. But here he is, still lying in bed with the soft sheets because he can’t sit up, in a clinic in Ba Sing Se that’s run by ex-combat medics, and Appa is missing. Again. Or still? He’s not sure. Apparently they’ve just come from the library, which checks out with his version of the timeline. Before that they found Toph, but were led to Toph by the weird creepy Swamp, and then there was Omashu but that was Zhao and not Azula and the Will-Not-Be-Mentioned-Cave, the bullshit with Fong, and then before _that_ they were in the Northern Water tribe, where Katara kicked ass and broke down sad little pompous men - also checks out.

Which leaves the whole Azula and Zuko thing. And the whole Fire Nation civil war _thing_ that Katara had told him about, recapping details like he was a small child and getting more and more concerned with how bewildered he got. Which was rude, he had just died, he was allowed to splutter about things. Like the fact that apparently the war ended over four years ago when _Firelord Iroh_ challenged Ozai to Agni Kai and won his birthright back. And then sent Ozai to prison for assassinating Lu Ten, murdering Zuko and Ursa since they had _vanished,_ and wrongfully taking the throne. And now Ozai had been broken out, and was leading his insane faction to take over the Fire Nation from Iroh because Ozai believed that the throne belonged to him because he was the sun's chosen. Not even Agni's chosen, the Fire Nation _Spirit,_ just that the sun had chosen him and anyone that opposed him would have to be cleansed for their sins. Sokka _really_ didn't want to think about what that meant. As of now, Ozai had gone and enacted his whole "Phoenix King" bullshit, but this time, it was Phoenix King Ozai vs Firelord Iroh for the right to rule the Fire Nation. It was like Sokka was in a cactus juice fever dream Rumble championship but they were battling for a throne, not a belt. And everyone knew what would happen if Ozai got the throne again, it was the _last thing_ the world wanted. Aang was being hunted by Zhao to gift to Ozai as some twisted war trophy symbolizing Ozai's great power over the spirits. Iroh wanted Aang as far away from Ozai as possible. Aang had to master the elements before the comet or else Ozai would wipe the Fire Nation off the face of the map and then the rest of the world. This time at least, they had some Fire Nation on their side.

He missed Zuko. 

When Sokka got back to his Real World, he was gonna have a _word_ with the spirits. 

* * *

Wherever he had woken up in, is decidedly not where he died in. That much he knows. Sokka prefers to not think about it. What he does think about, is how he (or other Sokka? Dream Sokka? He’s not really sure how to categorize things) got beaten to death following a lead about Appa. And if Appa’s missing, and they're in Ba Sing Se, that means Appa is back with the Dai Li. Which is a problem. Last time Appa was captured by the Dai Li, Zuko freed him, but Zuko here was supposedly dead - or missing, having vanished four years ago for no publicized reason.To say Sokka is concerned would be an understatement. Adding in the fact that apparently it hasn’t been him chasing them but Zhao, and that Azula had been getting in Zhao’s way the _whole time_ like some sane, helpful person is making Sokka nauseous. So Sokka, being the reasonable and smart handsome genius that he is, realzies this is clearly all a dream. He has clearly passed out while falling to his death with Toph and is now fantasizing about a world where he has a re-do and can try to actually save the people he loves. Life is cruel, so Sokka savours every moment he has with his dream-life before it inevitably ends by him body slamming into the earth at terminal velocity.

It’s strange though, this Dream World is almost the same as his, but like the thing with Azula and Zuko (the whole Fire Nation thing that he was steadfastly _not thinking about_ ) and the whole general "child beating Dai Li", the Gaang is just a little different. Aang is way more serious, more settled. Sokka used to say that Aang was "chipper", this Dream Aang, is decidedly not. That's not to say that Dream Aang isn't happy, it's just _different._ Like he would get jokes that he wouldn't get in Real Life. He’s learning to heal with Katara from the clinics med-team, and working more diligently on earth bending with Toph than he's seen in either world.

The little devil herself, Toph, has been more quiet than he ever remembers. She’s still the same badass, but it's a quieter, like she could do some serious damage and you wouldn't even know it. More of an air around her and the way she carries herself than before, where it was bravado that she backed up with sheer brawn. There’s a distinct, almost melancholy, mature-ness to her and Sokka doesn’t approve. It makes him think of the same feeling he got when he was around Iroh when he was serious. This Toph could _get things done._ He wants the funny, headstrong, Blind Bandit back. Dream Toph acts like she’s seen some shit, acts like she’s done some too, and Sokka doesn’t like it.

Katara though, she’s the most different, and it sets Sokka's teeth on edge. Katara has always been caring, always been the prepared one - always brought stuff for every single scenario she could possibly think of and then some, “just in case”. Now though, it's obsessive. There's an edge under everything she does that wasn't there before. That each action she does has something behind it. A purpose that he can't see. On top of that he doesn’t think he’s seen her without an emergency med-bag once. It’s on her constantly, he caught her sleeping on the bench with it on and with a kunai wrapped in her fist like she was the most comfortable she'd ever been. The bags under her eyes only darkened as the days went by, and by the time Dr.Yin finally allowed him to try sitting up - nearly two days after he first wakes up - Katara seemed like she’d aged years. There's something about the Gaang that's different, that's darker. 

He hates it. 

Almost as much as he hates the body he’s in. 

It feels weird for him to say, since he woke up in the body, but he doesn’t think it’s his. He doesn’t recognize any of the scars, there’s a weird little nub on the inside of his right middle finger that he doesn’t know, that he keeps _feeling_ and it's _annoying the shit out of him_. His fish hook scars are _gone_ . He’s got a huge gash on his inner left thigh that _is not his._ He doesn’t know where these scars came from, he doesn’t know this body. Which only furthers his Dream Theory. The problem is though, he asked for a mirror once, and his heart did something so weird that Toph made Katara check him.

It was his face looking back at him.

The same blue eyes, though one was still kinda red and swollen and gross/cool, but they were _his eyes._ The eyes that he saw every single time he looked back home, in the Real World. The rest of the face though, was kind of different. There was a scar that looped up from the bottom left of his chin up towards his mouth and over his lip, almost to his right cheek, it stopped just under his nose. He bet that had been a bitch to heal, and was glad he hadn’t been there for it. He still had a little white line on his right temple, from when he had tried to shave his head for the first time after his dad left. He touched it whenever he missed him. There were little (some not so little) stories all over this body that he didn’t know, and that was just the ones he could see without a mirror. He was morbidly curious about what the rest of him looked like - according to Dr. Yin, he came in bad, that Katara had done her best to heal the things she could, but some of it had been infected and would scar.

Sokka liked Dr.Yin, she didn’t beat around the bush. She was straightforward, honest and informative. The rest of her team, Ming Je, Nian Zhen, and Yae Song were a riot. All of them were blunt, hilariously so - they couldn’t lie worth a damn and didn’t try to. They are loud and communicated through insults and medical jargon. Sokka loved them. The day that he was able to stand for the first time, Ming Je had nodded and clapped him on the shoulder and told him that he was proud that Sokka had pulled through. He told Sokka that he had a ways to go, but that he was glad that Sokka had come as far as he had. And then the Gaang attacked and everyone got emotional and snotty. It was gross, and Sokka loved each second more than anything he could think of. 

By the time Sokka was able to stand by himself, walk around, and able to carry and lift weighted items, Sokka was ready to light the whole clinic on fire. He was _bored_ and he was _healed_ and they weren’t letting him do _anything._ So, he spent his time planning how to get Appa. Katara trained, Toph trained, Aang trained, Sokka planned. Last time they had tried to rescue Appa, things had not gone well. He still wasn’t sure what had happened to Jet, and he didn’t want whatever that was to happen again. Even if this was a dream world. So he planned. He went over what had happened and what Zuko had told him, went through every imagined scenario he could think of and then went through them again. There would be no “maybe-deaths”. No deaths at all if he could help it, he’d been through enough of that. But he couldn’t plan for everything, and sometimes things happen. He didn’t want deaths, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that it wouldn’t happen. Life is cruel and messy, death had a home here. 

So he planned. He had no memories of this body and what had happened to it, but he could guess from what Katara had told him and from what Nian Zhen had told him about where they found him and what condition he was in when they had brought him in. Apparently this Dream World Dai Li was more brutal than the one he had dealt with. Probably came with the fact that in Dream World, Aang was an ambiguous entity. People didn’t know what to do with him, at the worst they were out right hostile (case in point, the Dai Li), at best people wanted nothing to do with Aang, at all. That complicated things. This world was more violent, more unstable, than his.

The body he was in proved that.

He started working out while he planned, moving his body helped him move through his thoughts. He practiced what Paindo had taught him relentlessly, this body wasn’t used to sword training, but it did seem that it was physically useful. In a weird way Sokka was jealous of the body, it was more muscular than his, had cooler scars than his, he even felt taller - not fair Dream Body. At the same time though, he guessed that since this was a Dream World that he was just projecting what he wanted to look like onto this body, so in a way, he was jealous of himself? He wasn’t sure how that worked, just that he liked this body more than his, and that made him feel weird. Sokka decided to stop thinking about bodies and dreams and focused on what needed to happen for Operation Appa; the Apparation. Even in Dream World he was _hilarious (shut up Mind Katara)._

As Sokka was working through the seventh kata, he had come to a conclusion. There was no way around it. He was going to have to bring outside help in and they were going to need a distraction.

They’d only get one chance to get Appa, and that meant everyone had to come along, no matter how much he hated it. No matter how much he wanted to follow Dream Sokka and go off by himself and rescue Appa so that no one else got hurt. But he knew that if he tried to pull that again that they would come after him and shit would hit the fan. If he were back in the Real World, he wouldn’t trust the Gaang with a stealth mission like this. Real World Gaang seemed younger, more reckless, brighter. Dream World Gaang? He trusted them a little more, they had a seriousness to them that the other Gaang didn’t have. Sokka felt that this Gaang didn’t ride the mail chutes in Omashu. Or the elephant koi at Kyoshi. He didn’t even know if this Gaang had _gone_ to Kyoshi. Did Dream Sokka not know Suki? But they were in Ba Sing Se - did Dream Gaang not go through Serpent's Pass? Oh man,he had to get a more detailed recount from somebody. That particular history lesson was gonna have to wait until they were way out of Ba Sing Se though. Maybe they’d talk about while they were flying away on Appa at a million miles an hour and away from this horror show of a city. 

Sokka froze.

Flying.

Appa flew.

Appa was a ten-ton _flying_ monster. 

Flying in the _air_. 

Sokka never wanted to leave the ground again, but if they were going to escape and _save the world_ they were going to have to **_fly._ **

**_Fuck._ **

There was no other option. It’s not like he could walk. Toph did that earth-bend-run thing when Azula had conquered the city last time, and apparently again when they had brought him to the clinic, but even then Appa had caught up with her in no time. Sokka was going to have to ride Appa. There was no other option, nothing moved as fast as Appa. Maybe someone could just knock him out while they flew? That was reasonable, Toph would totally knock him out if he asked. Ok maybe not, more hits to the head was not something he wanted. He needed his brain, it was his one good point. Dr.Yin? Maybe she’d have something that he could take to knock himself out, like what they used for surgeries - yea, that was the way to go. Nodding to himself, Sokka got up and started to head to Dr. Yin’s office. This problem had to be solved _now._ Dr. Yin and the rest of the med-troop were all ex-combatants. He was a veteran. Technically. He wasn't sure on how reality vs dream military service translated. He did know, however, that he was traumatized. Sokka was smart enough to disassociate and recognize that part of him. He may know it, but having to deal with it was something else entirely. Sokka could compartmentalize a lot of stuff. He compressed down and locked away a lot of stuff. Not something that he was proud of, but it was something he did. Sokka can't compress and compartmentalize falling to his death. Even if this was a Dream World, he **_never_** wanted to be in the air ever again. He didn't even go near the balcony. Didn't look down when he had to take the stairs to go to the kitchen. Sokka was smart enough to know that he was traumatized, he just didn't have the time to deal with it. So, if he couldn't deal with it, he decided that he wasn't going to be there for it. Mentally at least. 

He tried to tell Dr. Yin this, just in a shorter, more condensed version.

“I can’t give you drugs just because you want them.” Dr. Yin was unimpressed with his sales pitch to give him Good Friendly Knockout Drugs. 

“But what if I _really_ want them and it’s for a good reason?” Dr. Yin just raised an eyebrow and frowned. 

“So good you can’t even tell me?” Sokka opened his mouth to respond, but everything inside him dried and shriveled instantaneously. His tongue suddenly felt like it when he had eaten those delicious looking pink berries with Momo and his tongue had been so swollen he couldn't close his mouth. His jaw clamped shut so hard Sokka thought he felt a piece of tooth chip off. Bile burned through his stomach before shriveling and dying inside of him. is heart started beating so fast in his chest he could feel it smash against his lungs.

He didn’t know how to say it, didn't know how to ask for help. Didn't know how to admit that he was _fucked up_ and needed drugs to knock him out so he didn't do anything that would worry his little family. How do you politely ask to tranquilize yourself? Sokka wanted to laugh. It was _hilarious. He had to sedate himself._ That's how messed up he was. He was probably falling to his death , right now, and here he was in Dream World asking his Dream Doctor to give him tranquilizers so that he didn't have an episode while flying on Appa and then fall to his death _again_ in Dream World. _It was **hilarious**_. It was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him. Sokka must have done something, or he maybe he was laughing really hard, it was kind of hard to breathe. Or maybe he said something stupid, because suddenly Dr. Yin was way more serious and way closer than she was before.

“Sokka. I need you to look at me." Wasn't he doing that already? Why wasn't she laughing with him? Did he not tell her how _funny_ everything was? "Good, good job Sokka. Now take breath with me; in for eight, hold for nine, out for ten. Here we go.” Wasn't he breathing already? Why was he on the ground? _Why wasn't she laughing?_

“Nice, nice Sokka good job. One more time ok? Let’s do another set. Ready? Good, here we go.”

Dr. Yin breathed loud enough so Sokka could hear her, and he tried to match - he did, but breathing was _so hard_ and it _hurt_ and he didn’t know what was happening anymore, he felt delirious. Didn't she think that it was funny that he was scared of falling to his death inside a dream? He was already falling in Real Life, why should he be scared in the dream? His skin was too hot and too small, and the floor was weird in here, why was it _moving??_ Was Toph doing something?? Why was Dr. Yin so close?? 

“Sokka! Sokka I need you to look at me, look at me Sokka. Good, I’m going to touch you now ok?” Dr. Yin came and sat behind him, her chest to his back, and held him against her.

“Sokka can you feel me behind you?” He nodded, his head was full of liquid, it was heavy and he felt it slosh and move around in his head. 

“Good, now when I breathe you breathe ok? Feel me breathe Sokka, focus on me and feel me breathe.” He could do that, he could breathe, that was easy. He felt her press into his back, and heard her take a long breath in next to his ear and tried to copy her. Move his chest out, feel all his squishy insides push against each other, and then move his chest in and squish it all together again. Sokka felt himself sink back a little and tried to let go of the breath he held, at the same time that he felt Dr. Yin breath out next to him. They went on like that until Sokka leaned forward on his own, resting his elbows against his knees, head against fists. His chest hurt, he was _tired_. 

“That, Dr.Yin, is why I need the good stuff. I can't be awake while we travel.” 

“Don’t you ride a flying bison? I may not have seen the thing myself, but your little crew talks about it enough.” Dr. Yin sounded far away, like she was trying to talk to him from across the village during a storm. 

Sokka let out a single, wet laugh. “That’s the problem.” He was exhausted, he turned his head towards the ceiling.He kept his eyes closed but could feel the burn of tears starting. Not now. He could cry later, when he was by himself. When he was in the shower and he could just pretend that it was just shower water. Anywhere but here, anytime but now. He needed this whole thing solved and dealt with so that he could focus on getting Appa out and then dealing with whatever the Fire Nation was doing in Dream World. The clinic was nice, but they had to move on. He could **not** do this here, Sokka wanted to shake himself. To grab his personified emotions and shake the shit out of them until they listened. He held his breath, trying to buy time for his throat to relax, for the burn to go away. Not here. Not now. 

“Sokka." He opened his eyes, and stared directly into the light above them." I can’t medically vanish things you’re scared of, or have phobias of, or traumas. Yes there are medications and herbs and things that I can give you to help keep you calm or less anxious, but they will not make things just _go away_ .” Dr. Yin sighed, and moved from sitting behind him to sitting in front of him, “You just had a panic attack _thinking_ about telling me what the problem was. Medicine can help with some things, but the best thing that’s going to help you is therapy. Pills and teas won’t make the anything go away.” Dr. Yin looked away, something in the way she talked spoke from experience, Sokka didn’t want to know. They all had their own devils, drank with their own demons.

To each their own small deaths. 

“I don’t have _time_ for therapy. We have to leave as soon as possible, so that you and the clinic and everyone that comes to your clinic don’t _get killed_ because of us.” Sokka stood, one hand on his hip, one waving in front of him, “We’ve been here for too long - and I thank you for that - I do, I am so grateful I can’t even express it. You _saved my life_ . I _died_ and you brought me _back_ . There’s nothing I can do to repay you other than _get out_. And the only way that we can leave, is if I’m not conscious when we’re in the air.” He was pacing, walking a small territory in front of her desk; three quick paces, turn, three quick paces, turn. Dr. Yin grabbed the corner of her desk, the only place she didn’t have papers, and pulled herself up. 

“You’re not wrong. Everything I have ever worked for and accomplished is on the line right now. My practice, my patients, my patients families, my staff, the love of my life, all of it. The Dai Li are looking for Aang. And considering the chaos that happened when we brought you in, I’d guarantee that they know you’re here. So the question is - what are you going to do about it?” Sokka had stopped pacing. The Dai Li knew where they were, he had guessed that, but hearing it out loud from someone else meant something different. The knew where they were, but they didn’t know _why._

“Do they know I’m alive?” The question fell out of Sokka before he could stop it, a plan forming in his head - one that he was going to have to go over, but that he liked the look of. 

“They know that you were brought here, but they haven’t seen you leave. They know that you’re friends are here, but I doubt that they know why or what they’ve been doing.” Dr. Yin sat on the corner of her desk, arms folded across her body, head cocked to the side.

“Ok, ok, what do Earth Kingdom funerals look like?” Sokka looked up, Dr. Yin smiled.

* * *

The plan was this.

Sokka would die, again - he was getting really good at it, if he said so himself - but this time not really. Just for show. Mostly. Dr. Yin, Ming Je, and Yae Song would all go out and loudly talk about how they had just lost a hard patient, but that it was for the better. Said patient had been beaten too brutally and that it was better that he didn’t wake up. They would lament about how bad they felt, the poor bald kid had taken it really hard, and the girls just wouldn’t stop crying. Then they would talk about Nian Zhen and that they were glad they hadn’t pulled the short stick of having to tell the kids that their friend was dead. Meanwhile Nian Zhen would be making “arrangements”, going around to all the right places to buy funeral preparations, which included mourning clothes. Nice black clothes that were definitely totally for mourning and not for a night stealth operation at all. Nian Zhen would also be buying “traditional southern water tribe mourning masks” that was definitely a very real thing and not because they all had very recognizable faces. Also totally not because Zuko being the Blue Spirit was one of the coolest things Sokka had ever heard of/witnessed in the Real World. Totally not. During Sokka's “funeral” an unfortunately placed candle would sadly start a fire in a fortunately empty clinic. The team meeting had concluded in agreement that the Dai Li would ransack the clinic anyways, so Dr.Yin figured that she would rather destroy her own clinic rather than some child murdering bastards. Sokka could get on board with that. The fire would be their distraction, if the fire got a little ~ _wild_ ~ and spread to Dr.Yin’s house next door, then that was just a downright tragedy. In the chaos, the Gaang would mournfully carry Sokka all the way back to their house but get lost along the way, all the chaos and all the smoke, they just didn’t know what turns to take! By gosh! Isn’t this the alley that leads to the Dai Li lair? Well, that was just a coincidence. Good thing Sokka's casket was made of stone and blocked the entry so that no one could follow them in. They wouldn’t want any other poor lost souls stumbling upon this place. From there, it was be sneaky, get Appa, get out, don’t get caught.

Simple with a dash of stealth and pyrotechnics, Zuko had really had an influence on Sokka's planning methods.

What could he say?

Zuko had a delightful flair for the dramatic, and Sokka wanted to honor his name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~~ 
> 
> i hope you all are well~ i went by a lighthouse today and it was spooky. mucho spook-o, no like-o. and i found a rock that was shaped like an egg. it was a very exciting day. though there were too many birds. 
> 
> anyways~~  
> there are no birds in this chapter (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  
> but there is the start of shenanigans!
> 
> sokka is still trying to figure out where he is, but at least he's awake now. though some might say that it would have been better to have stayed asleep. things are gonna start picking up now that there's only one timeline, but i also guarantee nothing ψ( `ε´ )
> 
> ps: your comments mean everything to me, thank you so much for taking the time to read my first story! my goblin cave is full of gratitude and tears ~
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell 
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	5. Traveling Rites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> to die with something to live for, the beauty in struggle and the quietness of death.

Chapter 5  
  
Traveling Rites

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

He should have known better. 

_He should have known_ **_better_ **.

He should have known that the plan wouldn’t work. He’d thought he’d prepped enough, planned enough, trained enough. He hadn’t. He didn’t think he ever would. 

In true honor of Zuko, and Sokka _really_ should have expected this, the plan goes to shit. 

Immediately. 

Technically, actually, the plan goes to shit _before_ it was supposed to have even _started_ . Which was honestly just kind of impressive as far as Sokka was concerned. How could a Zuko plan be cursed in Dream World?? That wasn’t even _fair_ . The plan was now this - don’t die. Get Appa, and try not to die. With a highlighted and asterisked marked section of _DO NOT DIE._

It was going to be a very long night. 

Sokka wanted to blame Zuko. It had been a plan _inspired_ by Zuko, but still something that he had come up with (even if the others had helped) so he couldn’t put all the blame on Zuko. It just made Sokka feel better to put most of it on him. 

Everything had gone smoothly during the day, Nian Zhen had gone out and had very obviously gone around gathering the items needed for an Earth Kingdom funeral. She had gone to get the clothes and shoes, the food, the rice, the incense, all of it. Mostly the mourning clothes. Those were (mostly) the whole reason for this whole thing - to get black pants and blacks tunics for everyone so that they could escape under the cover of darkness like true badasses. The medics needed a cover for being rambunctious and causing a distraction, and in order to properly have a funeral - you had to dress the part . It was safer and easier to get some for the whole clinic, to have everyone mourn a hard and brutal death. Seven was easier and less conspicuous than three, especially if Nian Zhen was getting three childrens sized mourning clothes. So seven it was (eight including Sokka), and that made it a morning _party_ . And wasn’t _that_ a whole ironic thing. On top of the fact that he was actually dying twice, once in his Real World whenever he finally splatted onto the ground, and apparently once here. Sokka was trying very hard not to completely lose it and laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He was _still dying_ and they were holding a funeral _party_ to trick the Dai Li who had _killed him_ . He wasn’t going to laugh, _he wasn’t._ At least not until Dr. Yin finally actually put him out of his deranged, hysterical, misery so that they could all have _another_ funeral for him. _He wasn’t going to laugh_. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka still didn’t completely understand Earth Kingdom funerals. Back home it was straightforward, easy. They gifted their tribes people back to Tui and La. There would be singing and chanting and dancing, and who ever had moved on to the next world would be swaddled in pristine dyed white fabric, and released back to the ocean where Tui and La and their ancestors would help guide and welcome them into the next world.Then they feasted for a full day and a full night. During the day they celebrated the person, and during the night they danced to honor the spirits. If someone died during the ice break season where there was only sun, or if they died during the new ice where there was only twilight and dark, they made a huge bonfire and feasted until it was nothing but ash, giving offerings and honoring the spirits the whole time. 

Here in the Earth Kingdom though, they planted people. Or they used to. People in Ba Sing Se didn’t have the room to bury their loved ones like they did outside the walls. Toph had told them that in Gaoling, people went to the forests and found a place that didn’t have any greenery, dug that spot up - just enough to cover someone - and _planted_ them. Some people had marked or laid claim to specific spots for themselves for _years_ . Toph had said that they came from the earth; that the land gave them everything - the things they needed to build and eat, to survive, the things they loved - and in the end they wanted to go back to it. To be a _part_ of it. Toph had said she was _looking forward_ to it. As someone who had died before, at least once - and this was _his_ funeral so he would know - dying was not something to look forward to. Sokka could kind of see the appeal though, if he squinted. Death here sounded quiet. 

Sokka thought back to the bodies he’d seen. At the pole they’d matched the ice, blue-ish white, stiff, and hard. Sometimes their eyes were open, frozen wide and unblinking. The rest of their body frozen solid, those were the ones that would go to Tui and La watching. Seeing things living people shouldn’t. Grangran said that people who died with their eyes open had seen their death coming, so their spirits were stronger than others. That they went to the Spirits _knowing_ . Other times, they didn’t find enough of them. Wrapping what they could in their burial cloth and returning the pieces they had found. Sometimes, there was nothing to wrap. Sometimes people went out and just didn’t come back. Disappearing out into an opalescent wasteland. Life in the South was cruel. It was _beautiful_ , Sokka could easily say that absolutely nothing contended with the severe, inhuman, beauty of the ice. 

But it was just that - _inhuman_. 

The land was beyond unforgiving. It saved no one and nothing, if you weren’t strong enough, then the land took you back and the people returned your spirit. The poles, especially the South, were dangerous. They didn’t have cities or structures in the South like they did in the North, or anywhere else in the world. It was _wild._ There were parts where humans just didn’t go, not because they couldn’t survive, but because it _wasn’t for them_ . Spirits still roamed there. They had just learned to camouflage themselves, whether that was for their own sake or if it was to better watch the humans, no one knew. No one dared to ask. A snow-leopard-caribou with too sharp horns and too many eyes. An Arctic yak with too many legs that didn’t leave footprints even though the top of it disappeared into the sky. Great polar bear dogs that were bigger than anything living could possibly be, soaring over glacial peaks and dwarfing the mountains below them. Their footsteps sinking deep into the snow, cracking the ice down to the dark water below. Humans that wandered into their village with too many teeth.There were _things_ in the South. Just because Sokka loathed the spirits doesn’t mean he didn’t respect them. They were ancient beings with untold power, he hated them, but he paid his respects diligently. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka would never forget the first time he had seen a spirit. 

  
  


His father had taken him along with him on a scouting hunt, it was still a little too early for the seal pups to be born - but Sokka was just happy that his dad had taken him with him. He must have been around six or seven, too young to really do anything more than try to stay quiet and hold their lunch. Light was just coming back into their lives, the sky was changing and the long night was ending and that meant that Sokka was _finally_ big enough to help. His dad had promised that he would take Sokka out with him when the sky turned pink. And he had held true that promise. Now it was Sokka’s turn to uphold his promise, that he would be quiet and make sure that nothing snuck up on them while his dad scouted the seal pups. And he _was_ watching. He had been, he knows he was. They had been lying on the crest of a hill overlooking the shore where pups were, or would be. His dad tracked the tides and the size of the adult seals, and he was keeping watch on the empty white behind them. Sokkas’ dad was lying on his stomach looking down and out over the hill, Sokka was sitting with his back against the snow a little ways down from where his dad was, watching for anything that shifted or made noise. But that had been the problem, Sokka had been looking for some _thing_. 

He hadn’t looked at the ice. 

Sokka had gotten up to shift positions, his legs were stiff and his butt was numb and he had just wanted to kneel instead of sit, just wanted to be doing a good job. When he moved, Sokka felt something under him crack. And before he could call out to his dad, before he could scream, Sokka dropped almost twenty feet into an underground cave. He had been sitting on an abandoned, freshly frozen white hamster tunnel, and when he had shifted his weight the ice gave out. Poof. The South took him. Sokka found out later, many years later, when his dad was telling him the story, that he had gotten suspicious of how quiet Sokka had been (even though Sokka was _supposed_ to be quiet), but when he looked down to check on him, Sokka had been _gone_. The only thing left, was a slightly darker blue dot in the ice where his dad had been sure Sokka was sitting. His dad told him that was the day that he started getting grey hair. Before his dad could go get help though, Sokka had popped up on the other side of the hill, totally fine and complaining about being hungry.

Sokka had never told his dad, or anyone, what had happened in the cave. 

It wasn’t a place for humans. 

Sokka had fallen into a spirit den. The cave took up everything he could see, the dim ice filtered light did nothing other than show which way was above. Not up, everything was one solid color, there was no way to tell what direction was up, the light was just _above_ wherever he was. The cave should have been cold enough to freeze him solid within minutes. Should have been dark enough to think he had fallen straight down into Tui and La’s own den. But it _wasn’t_ . The light was faint, but he could see and it was warmer than it had been above the cave. Sokka was too bewildered to do anything but stare. There was something in there with him. He had fallen _on top of it_. 

The thing in question was too big for him to understand, he was too little to know. 

It glowed, translucent against the ice, the only thing that Sokka _could_ see were the parts that radiated undulating shades of pale blue light. The blue got darker as it swirled and shifted deeper into the center of the spirit. It lifted it’s massive head, or what Sokka thought was it’s head, and turned to face him. It didn’t have eyes, or a face, just a part of it that had pointedly lifted and tracked Sokka as he tried to scamper off of the being. Long translucent tentacles rose up out of the being as the body curled around Sokka. A hand, an alarmingly _human_ hand melted out of the being, pale blue light now mixed and swirled with shades of jade, the light pulsed around Sokka as the hand got closer. The being scooped Sokka up from where he stood frozen to the side of the cave, tentacles curled around him and held him in place. Whether they held him to keep him from falling further, or as a chain, was something Sokka still didn’t know.

His little body was lifted high, up towards the face, Sokka looked down and saw the ice below. He could see _through_ the hand, could see through the tentacle feelers and the rest of the spirit's body, the only thing telling him that there _was_ something there with him, lifting him into the air, were the rolling swathes of shifting colors that were being contained by _something_ . Outlining and filling a sky beneath him, the sky that was lifting him up to something _else._

When he stopped moving, Sokka was face to face with a moon rise. Soft colors whirled and radiated out from an idle glowing point. Sokka was completely, and utterly transfixed. He wanted to reach out and _touch_ . To see if he would sink through, or if he would stay aloft, floating like the fish did in water. It _pulled_ at him. Something deeper than his insides moved and then Sokka _loved_ this sky. The feeling crashed through him, splitting open his insides and blinding him with the sudden intensity of how much he wanted to be with it. Sokka wanted to be inside of it, to never leave it, to always _always_ be with it. The moon inside the sky came closer, and Sokka moved towards it in return. His little hands reaching out, grasping at colors and the little glowing dots that were scattered inside. When Sokka got close enough, finally, he stretched as far as the feelers around his waist would let him and _touched_ . He had thought he would fall inside, that there wouldn’t be anything to hold him up, that he would just sink into the spirit and be absorbed (a part of him was upset that he wasn’t). But when they touched, it was like Sokka was being held up by fresh snow. The thinnest barrier held him out of the sky, if he put any weight into his hands it would be like pushing apart new, barely frozen ice. He took in a deep breath, eyes wide in excitement, and pressed his forehead against the spirit. Just like his mom and dad did with him, and just like what he did with Katara. The sky was his, and he was the sky’s.The hand started to move back, pulling him away and up with it, Sokka didn’t want to go, he felt cold and lonely and _wrong_ without the sky. The next thing Sokka knew was that he was staring up at daylight, at the real sky far far above him - not the warm one that he fell into, and that he was hungry. He found his dad on the other side of the hill. 

He had never told anyone about the spirit. He was scared that if he did, then it would go away, or that he would forget, and he couldn’t do that. It had been something that had happened to _him_ , and he didn’t want to share it. The sky was his and he was the sky’s, he _belonged_ to it, (belonged _in_ it). He was selfish, knew that he should have told his father and the elders, but nothing bad had happened. Nothing had happened at all, Sokka had snuck out to search for it a few times, and had gone even more when he got big enough to go on real hunts, but he never found it again. It never came looking for him either. He did see countless spirits from then on. Some stalked him across the open tundra, others popped up out of the snow drifts chasing something that he couldn’t see, some walked through him not even bothering with his existence as it went and did its spirit-y things. For whatever reason, spirits roamed the frozen existence of the South. 

It was a wild, dangerous, _inhuman_ place. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

When he and the Real Gaang were in the Real Earth Kingdom, he hadn’t seen any spirits other than Hei Bai. He had wondered if maybe spirits there were shyer than those in the South, or if they were fundamentally different, and if so how should he pay his respects to them? When they had gotten to the first village they could, he had gone to the elders to pay his respects and ask about their Earth Kingdom spirits. They had looked at him like he was crazy. Nearly laughing in his face, they had told him that the spirits had left long ago - that spirits didn’t _exist_ anymore. The spirits had _left_ . As much as Sokka didn’t like the spirits, hearing that they had apparently disappeared was _wrong_ and made him feel like Katara had frozen him in a block of ice again. Spirits didn’t just _disappear_ . They didn’t just _leave_ . Sokka didn’t even know how to process that information. If there weren’t spirits here, then where had they gone? What were they supposed to do with offerings? How could they hunt and scavenge the land without honor? The most concerning question Sokka had though, was if the spirits had gone - _why had they left?_ Now though, he wonders if they had come to Dream Earth Kingdom, people here were almost as diligent as he was about their offerings. He had seen Toph and the medics pay their respects throughout the day, it was the little things - they muttered something over their food before and after eating, the little marks above the doors and windows that he hadn’t seen (or noticed) in the Real World, an incense stick that was burned continuously on top of both the morgue doors. The people here acknowledged and respected the spirits in this world, the spirits were _here_ , or at least they were in this Ba Sing Se. 

Not knowing _where_ the spirits were, however, made Sokka's bones itch. This Dream World clearly respected them more than his Real World, but not knowing where they were and not being able to see them, at the same time as _knowing_ that they were there - made something inside him shift and _prickle_ . It was like he was being hunted. He couldn’t see or hear the spirits, but he could _feel_ them. They were _watching_ him. It made him more than uncomfortable, he would venture so far as to say that it made him genuinely on edge. The furthest edge. He didn’t fuck around with the spirit world. Let alone do anything like lying to the spirits, Sokka could honestly say that he had never even _thought_ about tricking them. But that was what his plan was based on, it was the integral factor - the whole shebang he had created was based on a lie. This was a _false funeral_ (to some degree), and while they were still holding offerings and being respectful, even if they skipped the funeral rites to send him to the spirits, it was still invoking and _involving_ them. It was still a _ritual._ They could unintentionally piss off a spirit and bring chaos and destruction to everyone and everything around them, just because Sokka wasn’t _actually dead._ If the wrong spirit found out, or just stumbled by, they would make sure it would turn out to be a very real funeral. 

Sokka thought about what would happen with falsifying a funeral back home, and if an Earth spirit was anything like he dared to imagine, it was going to be worse than bad. He didn’t know these spirits. Didn’t know what offerings and rituals they preferred, didn’t know _how_ they wanted to be respected. And he was going to falsify a ritual. Sokka thought he might as well just put out the incense sticks by peeing on them. Might just fuck around and burn down a temple (he tried not to think about how part of his plan _was_ to burn down something). He _hated_ this plan, but it was one that would both get rid of their evidence at the clinic and let them get out - this plan had to work, he just prayed that the spirits wouldn’t see them. That the Dream Ba Sing Se spirits would be benevolent, or better yet - that they weren’t even in Ba Sing Se. Sokka prayed harder that all the spirits were out wandering the forests in the rest of the Dream Earth Kingdom.

Sokka thought about what Dream Toph had told him about the planting and the forests. When he looked back on it, the forests _were_ the epitome of lush. Even in the Real World, where the spirits were either hiding or gone, the trees had been thick and strong, and the dirt had sprung back up behind each of his steps when he had gone hunting. Everywhere they had gone the forests were teeming with life. There had never been a time he went hunting and didn’t either catch or scavenge something. It made him think of Jet’s forest, the trees that were so tall they made him feel young and like he had been trespassing. The trees that made him feel distinctly _human_ . He wondered how many bodies he had walked across without knowing. How many graves were beneath them now. The Earth Kingdom was built on bones, ancient peoples setting themselves as the foundations for generations to come, and each inturn going back to the earth and restarting, strengthening, the process. Maybe the earth people _were_ made of earth. It was literally in their bones.

The people of Dream Ba Sing Se (and Real Ba Sing Se Sokka guessed) didn’t have the room to give their people back to the earth anymore. So instead they gave huge and various offerings, and after they had cremated the body, the person who was closest to the deceased went through the ashes and picked out the bone fragments. This was so the ash could be used as fertilizer, to return them back to nature and to help the future generations. The bones however, had a more complicated process. After the bones had been separated from the ash, they were put into a special jar and taken to a small, highly specialized and highly guarded sect of earth benders who would take the bones and use them in building. The family could specify what the deceased person had requested to be used as, and then that object or part would be marked, indicating it as an offering to the spirits and to the future generations. 

Ba Sing Se funerary parties were a lot less secretive, and decidedly more fun. The family (or in this case Ming Je and Nian Zhen) would make a huge meal from all the things that they harvested (bought), leaving out a seperate serving for both the deceased (Sokka) and the Spirits - their servings however, wouldn’t be cooked ( if it was cooked than they had _“cooked the life out of it and completely ruined the whole point, Sokka, why weren't you listening?”)._ The deceased and the Spirits offerings would also have a small dish of honey, a bowl of uncooked rice, fermented side dishes, and alcohol. Lots of alcohol. At least feasting seemed to be a common practice with funerals, Sokka rather enjoyed that part. The living members that were at the mourning party would feast to the spirits and to the memory of the dead for the whole night. In the morning, just before dawn, they would place a set of unworn shoes embroidered with chrysanthemums or carnations, and tied with a coin on either strap (one coin per foot) outside the door. To lead and protect the dead into their next life. 

Sokka was looking forward to the feasting. Not so much anything else. The Ba Sing Se funeral practice was _delicate,_ and if Sokka did anything wrong, he could upset the spirits AND get them caught by the Dai Li. There were too many details, too much riding on this, too many little things that could go wrong. Too many people and other worldly entities that he could provoke simply by existing.

It made Sokka think about Zuko. 

They had gotten closer after Boiling Rock. The only ones of their age, young but worn. Both exhausted and trying to lead a group of headstrong children that didn’t listen not to their deaths, but to a world where they could _live_. One night, Sokka couldn’t remember if it was the night before the comet or if it was after Zuko had reunited with his Uncle (it felt so _long_ ago) - Zuko had told him what to do with his body if he didn’t come back. If his Uncle couldn’t get him, if something _happened._ He and Zuko were close, but they didn’t talk that much. Sure Sokka rambled and bounced ideas off of him, to which Zuko would just _look_ at him or give him surprisingly insightful yet short returns, but they didn’t _talk_. If they talked like that, if they talked about _real_ things like that, it was like they were taunting the spirits, instigating the whole universe into doing something. If they talked like that, it _provoked._ So when Zuko told him that if he died, Sokka had to go get his body back from his sister. Sokka wanted to tell him to **_shut. up._** They didn’t say those things out loud, because if those words are said out loud, the universe will take it as a challenge to **_make it happen._** Zuko needed to not tell him that he had to _steal Zuko's body back from his sister to save_ _his body from his_ _father_ , because then Sokka would have to do _exactly that._

Zuko made Sokka _promise_ to go get him. 

Sokka wanted to make Zuko take those words back, to make him never say them at all. But they had already been said, and they were young and broken and _unlucky._ Zuko had said them outloud and now all they could do was wait and see if the spirits had heard too. All Sokka could do was reach out across the night sky and offer his arm. Zuko grabbed at the elbow like Sokka had taught him. They shook. Sokka promising wordlessly to save Zuko’s body. Zuko promising that he would try not to die. 

But it was war. And death lived with them. 

Sokka had broken his promise in the end. He couldn’t save Zuko from his father. He wouldn’t be able to get his body back, wouldn’t be able to send him to Agni. Because Sokka was dead. Sokka had slammed into the ground so hard that there wouldn’t be anything to give back to Tui and La, let alone enough of him left to go find Zuko. Zuko had told him about Fire Nation funeral rights, explaining that traditionally they cremated the body but that the royal family had their own specific traditions. Generally though, people were fully cremated - bones and all, and then either made into jewelry (nobility and the extremely wealthy upper class), or placed in small ornate sealed vessels. But Zuko had been banished and stripped of his royal lineage, and his father had been very particular in telling Zuko - regalling to him - that he would never enter the Royal Family Crypt so long as Agni burned. That if he was lucky, his body was going to be burned like a peasant. He had raged at Zuko that he was going to make sure Azula found his pathetic traitorous bones and dumped them into the ocean so his spirit would never be at rest. Sokka had never hated anyone as visercly as he hated Ozai. Sokka had first cursed Ozai to a fate worse than death, then told Zuko that he wasn’t going to die - it wasn’t allowed, and that even if something happened, that Sokka would make sure he would be rested. Sokka had confessed that he didn’t know how to cremate someone, but that if that’s what Zuko wanted, that he would do anything to at least give him that. Zuko had quietly told him to use a high heat first, and then when there were only bones left, to continue to burn them, to lower the heat and burn it all until there was nothing left. Zuko didn’t even want a _fragment_ of his bone left in this world. Sokka could understand. 

Zuko wanted to be cremated and given back to his Spirit and Ozai would do everything possible in his power to make sure that even after death Zuko would suffer. Sokka would never understand how a man like that existed, would never understand how after everything, Zuko still _wanted_ to love his father. No, actually - he could. It was simple, stupidly so. That’s just who Zuko was. He wanted to love his father because that was his _father_. Sokka wanted to wake up immediately, would give almost anything, to be able to wake up and go back to the real world and save Zuko from his family. To take Zuko’s body back with him. He wasn’t sure if what he had dreamt had been real, he wanted to plead with the spirits to _please not be true_ , but if it was, he wanted to teleport to that courtyard and take his body back with him. And Kataras. He had to _wake up_ _now_ so he could save his best friend’s and his sister’s _bodies._ _Why couldn’t he_ ** _wake up_** _._

Sokka _hated_ the spirits. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Nian Zhen wasn’t sure how things had gotten to this point. 

Well no. She did know. 

It started when the Avatar broke the clinic doors to pieces and pleaded for someone to come and help him save someone. She had been the closest. She went. And what she brought back could barely qualify as a living thing, let alone one that they could save. But they _were_ living, barely - and as long as there was a pulse she was going to try. She had made that vow to herself back when she first joined the army as a combat medic, a pulse meant a life. The woman that had saved her told her that. That woman was gone now, she had tried to save someone the Dai Li hadn’t liked. Her saviour was her first death, the first person she held as they died, and her first meeting with the Dai Li. But that was a long time ago, and the kid the Avatar wanted to save had a pulse, and she would be damned if she didn’t at least try to save them. 

It had been hard. Nian Zhen hadn’t seen a kid this bad off in a while. Not since the war had ended and she had been out on the lines. She hadn’t seen a kid like this since the Wall. Seeing the kid, Sokka, pull through was one of the best things the whole clinic had experienced in a while. He was a weird kid, had some memory issues, but was smart and quick on the uptake. Physically, he could be better. Mentally too, that kid needed therapy - his whole little group did. But overall, he was doing well. His recovery was going smoothly, it helped that his sister was a waterbending healer, but even with that extra boost Nian Zhen had never seen someone heal so fast. 

That was good though, really good. She didn’t want them in the clinic anymore. She taught the girl as much as she could as quickly as she could. It wasn’t that they were _bad_ kids. They were good kids; relatively quiet, well behaved, and wanted to learn how to heal. They all got A’s in her book, but Nian Zhen wanted them all _out_ before anything else happened. Hui Yin had let _the Avatar_ into the clinic and had _healed_ the kids' friend. Yin had closed the clinic. Nian Zhen couldn’t recall a time when the clinic had been closed, hadn’t even known that they _could_ close. They had had enough problems with the Dai Li before, and now the honest to spirits _Avatar_ was learning how to heal with Ming Je and make kimchi from Yae Song. Nian felt like she had gone insane. 

Which was, of course, when Sokka declared that he had a plan to get them out and that would get the Dai Li off of them. Said plan involved a fake funeral and _burning the clinic down_ . Yin had even _suggested_ that they burn their house down too. That if the Dai Li were going to raid the clinic that they were going to raid her and Yin’s house too, since it was attached to the clinic. Nian Zhen _had gone insane._ She could see the manic logic behind it though (which did not help her think that she was still sane). That if everything they had and loved would be destroyed, that they might as well do it themselves. 

Nian Zhen decided that she didn’t like Sokka anymore. She understood what they were all getting at though. The kids needed to leave, and not just the clinic. They had to leave Ba Sing Se. The kids had to go and then the Dai Li would come for the clinic. They just would, Nian Zhen was surprised that they hadn’t come already. Either something else was happening in Ba Sing Se or the Dai Li were waiting for something. Neither of those were anything in the realm of good. When the Dai Li did come though, they were going to _destroy_ the clinic. Of course it would be “for their safety” or “the betterment of Ba Sing Se” or most likely they wouldn’t say anything at all. They would just come in, destroy absolutely everything, and then leave. If they were lucky, no one would die. If they weren’t - Nian Zhen loved Hui Yin. 

They had worked together to save people and tried to do the right thing for as long as they could. It was only a matter of time before the Dai Li came. They had helped too many people that they weren’t supposed to. Nian Zhen believed that they hadn’t helped _enough_. Maybe helping the Avatar would count for something, she hoped so. In the end though, Nian Zhen decided that if things came to that, she was proud of what she had done and that dying by Yin’s side was a death she could be grateful for. Not many people in this day and age could say that. The kids had a lot of work to do, the world was a violent and merciless place, and they planned to go straight into one of the worst, most inhospitable places possible. She just hoped that they would be able to get away. 

On top of escaping the city, the kids still had to recuse their _flying bison_ . Nian Zhen didn’t know what that meant, Sokka had tried to draw something but it had just made her head hurt. Whatever it was had too many legs. That comment sparked an argument over if Appa (the flying thing?) was a mammal or an insect. Which had somehow led to her being the one that had to go shopping. During recruit season. The market was going to be a _nightmare_ . Yin and the others got to go out and drink and she had to suffer through sweaty, people filled, markets. Nian Zhen decided that she was going to make Yin cook dinner for a week and take her to see The Tale of Two Lovers with dinner _and_ drinks. She loved her partner, but Yin _knew_ she hated shopping - why couldn’t Ming Je do this? He loved this kind of stuff, said it was because he liked to try new things - which they all knew meant that he liked to go out and hit on any breathing human in his vicinity. Nian Zhen had seen him hit on the Fruit Lady, who was well into her sixties and was buffer than he was. Yae Song claimed that she had seen Ming Je try to flirt with Noodle Guy, but Noodle Guy was objectively attractive so Yae Song’s claim went under the “duh.” category on their “Mings Flings” board in the kitchen, whereas Fruit Lady went under “mildly surprised but not unexpected”. The guy had guts, she had to give him that. The fact remained though, that she would rather be doing just about anything other than shopping, that included her going to Mr. Yangui’s and _dealing_ with his toes. Anything other than shopping. 

Nian Zhen left for the market right before breakfast. Very grudgingly. She left Yin hungover in their bed and trudged to the cheapest tailor. She had gone over the shops in their market in her head the night before, mapping out which shops had the best prices and were most likely to be the least crowded during the day. The mourning clothes didn’t have to be nice, they just had to have enough for everybody to look like they were in mourning. She hoped that she looked as haggard and upset as she felt, it would play nice into their story. Nian Zhen wanted to go to her favorite tailor - Omma and Shoes, it was run by an elderly woman named Kim Eun Jeong, she liked it because she thought the pun was funny and Mrs. Kim was the best negotiator in the market. She wanted to go there, but she didn’t. She needed cheap clothes for kids that would wear them once to escape a terrible city and then hopefully burn them. Nian Zhen would _never_ burn Mrs. Kim’s clothes. Instead, she went to a uniform and supply shop. Everything was one-size-fits-all, military “just put a body in it and get out there” regimented and it slammed her through her memories to when she had had to come to this same chain to pick her military issued bullshit. And yet here she was again, standing in a carbon copy of the store on base, more than fifteen years later, and still putting kids in mourning clothes. 

The supply shop didn’t have kids Leading shoes. Nian Zhen didn’t know if she should feel annoyed that now she had to go to another shop, or relieved that a military surplus shop didn’t carry kids’ _Leading shoes._ She decided to not think about it and to just find the nearest place that would. People were already starting to give her looks, most of them sympathetic, some of them pity, a few - curiously - looked angry. Or disgusted, she couldn’t tell. Either way, people were starting to stare at her and her mountain of black mourning clothes and she wasn’t in the mood for it. 

The day had gotten worse from there. The cobbler had wanted to negotiate for the Leading shoes, but when she not so subtly dropped one of her bags and her full-multiple people-family-amount of mourning clothes tumbled out, the guy had eased up and even threw in a grunted “sorry for your loss” on her way out. She would have preferred a better discount, but the thought was appreciated. Even though no one had died yet. Well, Sokka _had_ technically died for a couple minutes, but no one was _still_ dead. Yet, at least. Nian Zhen was starting to worry that maybe she should have brought Katara with her to help her carry stuff. The girl hadn’t stopped studying and training since they brought her brother in, it kind of made Nian Zhen feel bad - not enough to stop or interrupt her though. She knew how Katara felt, and if she was in the girls position, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave her brother or her books to even go to the bathroom. Nian Zhen decided that she liked Katara. And Toph. Toph reminded Nian Zhen of the top of a mountain. Far away, a peak she could never hope to reach, on top of an unimaginable amount of power - Toph was distant, strong, and unmoveable. She knew what she wanted and she got it, Nian Zhen liked Toph the best. She definitely should have brought Toph with her. At least then she could have someone to talk to about how much she hated this. 

It started when Nian Zhen was leaving the butcher. 

Nian Zhen had just stepped out, laden down with her bags full of very obvious funeral preparations, when she saw it. A large, dark, flat hat disappeared down the alley kitty-korner from her. They knew. She had known that the Dai Li would send at least one person to tail her, but she hadn’t expected them to be so close to her. She pushed her unease back inside of herself. They couldn’t know that she knew. If they did - - she didn’t want to think about it if they did. She pretended to just be rolling out and cracking her neck instead of staring down the alley where the agent had gone. Luckily, she only had to pick up incense and flowers now. Two stops, she could do that. Maybe just one if she wanted to spend a little extra and could stand to deal with Tara. Potential Dai Li interaction, but spend less money and no Tara - or - Less potential Dai Li interaction, but spend a little more money and have to deal with Tara. Both options were terrible. Nian Zhen decided to deal with Tara, she was tired and wanted this to be _over_ and even though Tara was a gossipy self absorbed idiot, she did sell really good incense for being a florist - and her shop was right next to the clinic. Wasn’t really a win, but she couldn’t count it as a loss either. Just a supremely shitty situation but that was significantly less shitty than if the Dai Li had made contact with her. 

She catches a glimpse of a shadow moving out of the corner of her eye when she finally escapes from Tara. Another, more noticeable, movement comes from _above_ her. Unexpected and significantly more nerve wracking than spooky shadows in alleyways. Alleyway shadows are expected, shadows flashing and moving above you? Not so much. Nian Zhen hitched her bags higher up on her arms and tried to swim to the other side of the street. She was lucky that she started early, if she had left any later that morning then she would have been trying to come back down the market way from the granary while every single known human in Ba Sing Se tried to shove themselves down her street. For the briefest of moments, Nian Zhen was genuinely glad that the Avatar and his little crew were stashed away inside their clinic because it meant that they got to be closed, which meant that she didn’t have to deal with drunks on leave or any of their shenanigans. Oh sweet clinic, how she was going to miss you when they all lit you on fire later that night.

Nian Zhen shoved her way past a group of middle aged men who were all either squatting, standing or sitting next to their morgue entrance in the back of the clinic drinking and smoking and clearly gambling their pensions away while looking for an excuse to start violence. Another wonderful day in Ba Sing Se, Nian thought as she unlocked the door and waddled in - one bag secured between her legs to open the door, the others draped on her arms. As she unpacked upstairs in the kitchen, the reality of the situation finally started to settle in. Like the quiet of night, a feeling that she couldn’t place settled over her. It wasn’t loss, or fear - she knew those well - nor was it anxiety, something inside her was bristiling and sinking - she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Nian Zhen decided to keep a tab on it, she couldn't think of it now, but maybe if she watched it from the coroner it would make more sense. Focusing back on the things she was unpacking, Nian Zhen thought that though she may not be particularly fond of Tara, she could appreciate what Tara did. The mourning wreath that she woven together was stunning; all white and ivory chrysanthemums woven together with lambs-ear and little sprigs of rosemary. It was gorgeous, and if they survived the night, Nian Zhen was absolutely gonna tell Tara that. Or she was gonna make Yin do it for her. If they didn’t survive, she hoped Tara would make another one for her and Yin and the clinic. 

  
  


𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

When the sky started to turn, fading from blue to purples and pinks, the gold of the Upper Ring created a soft glow at the top of the wall that they could see even from their place in the Lower. It glowed, like they had their own soft little sun setting just for them. Nian Zhen took another long pull from her drink. Ming Je and Yae Song were still cooking, though at this point all the adults had at least one drink in front of them and at least one inside. She pretended not to see Sokka take a shot of the soju she had brought out. Technically, she guessed, it was his funeral, and the soju that was out was technically his memorial alcohol - so she didn’t really see the problem, as long as he kept it to the drinks that were already laid out for him on the shrine and not on the good stuff that she had brought for her, Yin, Yae Song, and Ming Je. Sokka could have the bottom shelf, they were going to drink the stuff that she had gotten from an actual merchant.

It was nice, for as awful as it was going to get once the sun went down, the moment was nice. Nian was under Yin’s arm, they had their nice drinks, Sokka was making a fool out of himself trying to argue that if fruit were sentient and got into a fight than the obvious winner would be jackfruit, Katara argued that it would be pineapple, Aang tried to calm them down and told them that the only winner could be the coconut, Toph was arguing for dragon fruit because clearly it was part dragon. Nian Zhen didn’t want the faintest of hints at how the argument started - she thought they were all wrong, clearly durian would take down all other fruit - there was a reason it was nicknamed the king of all fruit. She would be gracious though, and let the kids think that they were right. All in all, it was a nice night.

When Ming Je and Yae Song finished cooking, Nian Zhen was in a good place. She had enough alcohol in her system to think that the kids' argument was amusing, not infuriating, and that even though it was technically a funeral, it was nice to have the house full of laughter. She wondered if maybe, in another life, her and Yin could have had this. Could have had a house full of kids and laughter and easy nights with good food. She and Yin could go to bed after putting the kids down, together and happy, and then wake up and do the same thing the next night. The same weird feeling she had earlier finally reared its head again. Except this time she knew its name. 

Grief. 

She was grieving. 

For a life she would never have, could never have had - for the kids, for the semblance of peace that they’ve had for the past two and a half-ish, almost three weeks. For what was to come. Nian Zhen wasn’t nervous, or calm, or angry - well no. She was angry, she was always angry. But her anger this time wasn’t what she was used to, she was used to cold, dark, fury - this was tired. She was grieving at a funeral for everything that was coming, and once she realized that, it was like she could finally see what was happening. Sokka and the kids were having a stupid argument because they could and it took their minds from the very real possibility that they could all die tonight. Ming Je and Yae Song were singing in the kitchen, two songs happening at the same time because they were each their favorite songs. It sounded like birds were being put through a noodle making machine while fighting a cat on drugs, but they were singing and they were happy. Hui Yin above her was holding her, because they’d sat like this a million times and wanted to a million more, but this could be their last night alive together, so they sat. Nian Zhen pressed closer against Hui yin, curling against her, shaping herself to her. 

Dinner was brought out slowly, each kid bringing a dish and each adult pretending to be busy. They laid the table out in simple, practiced motions. Sokka starting at one end and Aang finishing on the other, Katara fixing everything in between that they had already tried to lay out. Yea Song and Toph placing explosives around the house with their bending. Hui Yin and her called out certain things that should go together and the kids made it happen. Family was easy to play, especially so when Ming Je finally called out that it was time to eat - and they all swarmed to sit down at the closest spot to them. He sauntered to the table, carrying the final main dish, a heavy meal of spicy slow roasted caramelized pork (or mango for Aang) and a soup full of vegetables, tofu, thin long noodle-like mushrooms, and pepper. The spiciness was to ward off evil and the sweetness was to help ease the sadness of loss. It was delicious and symbolic, and watching the kids dive in head first only to be hit with the heat was one of the funniest things Nian Zhen had seen. Aang’s whole body - all the way to the top of his head - turned bright red, Katara’s nose started running like a faucet so she shoved twirled napkins up her nose to make it stop so she could still eat, and Sokka was rolling around on the ground screaming. Toph was having the time of her life, laughing (no, laughing wasn’t quite right - she was definitely _cackling_ ), and eating like a normal person. 

It was a good night, things were going well. The food was delicious, and as much as Nian Zhen wanted to give Yae and Ming a hard time, she couldn’t find it in her. She felt that if she said anything, that the spell would break - that whatever was keeping the candles burning softly, the laughter and teasing filling up the air around them, all of it would crack and fall away if she said anything. So she didn’t. Nian was startled out of her thoughts by a hand on the small of her back, she turned, looking at Yin who was looking at her - head cocked, eyes questioning. Nian smiled, and shook her head - she was fine, and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Yin. She loved kissing Yin, short or long, sometimes soft, sometimes fast and hard, all of it. Loved kissing angry, loved kissing sad, loved Yin. She pulled away, regretting it immediately, and touched her forehead to Yin’s. 

“I love you.” soft and true, the words came out of her like air.

“And all that’s after.” Hui Yin whispered, quiet and honest.

  
  


It happened in an instant.

Toph stilled - jerking out of her reverie in a hard quick motion, the windows shattered - glass flying inside, and Ming Je slumped to the ground. 

Yae Song pulled the stone in front of the windows up, covering them in a rock curtain before the first agent could get in. Not that they didn’t try, there was a severed foot in her living room now. 

“Run! Go! Get out of here!” Hui Yin ordered, all of them jumping and turning to face the next attack. 

Toph was the first to move, she made a complicated move with her feet, dragging with her body, up and out - her arms swirled and snapping her hands into a pose before clenching her fists shut. Nian Zhen could only imagine what happened outside. Earth shattered inwards, Dai Li appearing in through the holes. Sokka and Katara were posed, Sokka with his boomerang and club, Katara had a layer of water covering up to her forearms - tipped at her hands in sharp ice. Aang had his staff raised, poised and ready. Toph’s feet were still sunk into the floor, buoyed in the stone. 

They fought hard and fast, Yae Song blocking the earth being flung at them - swinging her hard fists in before punching out. Slugging the nearest agent with a rock covered fist, they went down hard and didn’t get up. 

Nian Zhen had dove to the side of the table when the rocks started to fly, grabbing her weapons that had been stashed beneath the table and rising to the fight. Her hands held her trench knives, steady and familiar - metal dusters that sprung off the hilt hugging her fingers, the blades of the knives erupting out of her fist, the small pyramid of steel on the end of the hilts glinted in the light of the room. They were brutal, heavy weapons. The blades were long, eighteen centimeters of diamond shaped reinforced steel that ended in a dagger point. Instead of having a normal hilt, her trench knives were more like brass knuckles that had elongated and forged into the blade that came out from near her thumbs. The end of the hilt, near her pinkies, had a small pyramid of metal, her combat weapons master had named them “skullcrushers”, they weighed heavy in her hands. One piece of metal, made to ensure death without being dropped. Nian wouldn’t go near a fight without them. 

One hand raised above the other, Nian took a breath and started ducking and bobbing through the onslaught of earth like a boxer. It was familiar, she felt like she was back in bootcamp, training to evade benders and take beatings, all that was missing was her drill instructor screaming at her. Breathing steady, she got past the barrage and attacked. Her knuckles coated in metal, the hilt of the knife clenched tight in her hand, and slammed her fist up into the jaw of the unsuspecting soldier above her. They dropped, heavy. One down. She moved in the direction the body fell, using it for cover, and slid over to the next agent. Her breathing picked up, the world tunneling to focus on the current soldier in front of her. Darting between rocks, she blocked clumps of earth as they smashed into her forearms and shoulders, bruising and cutting her skin as she advanced. She came up to the soldier bending and swung, fist hitting its mark and forcing the soldier to drop their arms, breaking their stance. She kicked out, the top of her foot smashing into the knee of the agent, bringing them closer. Nian hit out again, the hilt of her knife slashing out against the agent, two down. 

Nian could feel her heartbeat pulsing behind her eyes, an uncomfortable feeling but not a new one, familiar and unpleasant. Memories of her time on the Wall flashed through her. Something heavy hit her in the back, knocking the air out of her and slamming her into the ground. She bounced, ricocheting off the living room floor from the force, and brought her hands up to cover her head, tucking down and rolling from the hit that was supposed to come. Instead a rock pillar pulled down from the ceiling and speared into the ground where she had been a moment ago. Nian felt her heart kick up a notch, that had been close - even for her. There was no time to think though, barely time to react - still on the ground, Nian reached out to the leg of an agent above her, and pulled - breaking their stance and pulling them over herself, they fell between her legs and she lashed out with the blade of her knife, sinking it through the ankles of the agent, cutting tendons and ligaments. Three down. 

Nian rolled away from the agent, pushing up into a crouched position. There were at least four more, that she could see, in her direct vicinity. Staying low, she kicked up behind her, foot connecting with the chest of an agent, pushing them back and away from her. Using her momentum she swung herself around, pushing up into a protected stance and out into the agent. Taking a deep breath, Nian steeled herself, and lept onto them, tackling them to the ground. A flare of pain shot through her legs as they collided and fell to the ground. Nian grunted and took a hit from the agent below her, they tried to buck up - kneeing her in the back, trying to throw her off. She didn’t have time for this, Nian thought. Her back was exposed to the rest of the room, she didn’t have her armor anymore - her and Yin had burned theirs when they had opened the clinic. There was no time to think about anything, no time for anything but action that should have already happened. A familiar unpleasant sensation coursed through her, a numbness that only came with a resignation to violence. She decided to do things quickly.

Efficiently. 

Nian straddled their waist and punched out, the dusters connected to the temple of the agent, knocking them out cold. Quick, efficient, numb. Four down. 

Still on her knees, Nian saw another agent come running over to her - she hunched her shoulders, protecting her neck and head, and while breathing in - cut out with her right hand. She let her breath out as she stabbed out and into the knee of the agent with the hilt of her knife, forcing them down to her height. The momentum carried them into her, using it - Nian flipped them over her shoulders - slamming them on their back next to her left leg and the agent she was still sitting on. She shifted her weight to her right side, and kicked out with her left, spinning as she went. The agent under her got shoved violently into an end table near them as Nian’s foot slammed into the head of the agent next to her. Her chest heaving with exertion, adrenaline pumping through her, Nian paused to make sure they stayed put. 

Five down.

Fists raised, elbows in, Nian was standing again. Sweat trickled down from her hairline, blood ran down from her shoulders and off her elbows. She took a look around the house, bodies of soldiers strewn throughout, her dining table destroyed, dishes and food smeared everywhere. There was a lull in the fight, everyone readjusting from the initial onslaught. Prepping and steeling themselves for whatever came next. Nian looked for the kids, Sokka had his club raised in front of him, boomerang angled and shining dully behind him. Toph was next to him, Nian could see the sweat dripping off her, too young to fight like this but holding her own - Nian was mildly concerned with just _how_ well Toph was holding out, but mostly genuinely impressed. Yin was in between Sokka and Yae Song, looking at her, Nian nodded - she was fine, nothing too bad and Yin gave one sharp nod back, both confirming Nian’s state and hers. Yae Song was different. Near the door Yae Song was struggling to stand, one arm limp and hanging next to her, the other raised weakly in protest. Her eyes were unfocused, a large gash crossed from her left temple to the center of her forehead, blood and sweat mixing and running down into her eye. Behind her was Aang, unconscious. Aang was lying on the floor, next to a wall, a bruise already forming on the side of his head. Katara was standing over him, one hand down and healing, the other raised for fighting - a circle of bodies around them. 

The silence of the lull broke. 

“Ahh, Dr. Hui Yin, Captain Nian Zhen. I see you are doing well.” A thin, reed like man slunk through the ranks, stepping over the bodies. His voice oozed out, sludging through the air like thick mud, “Such a pity about former Staff Sergeant Lee Ming Je. How fortunate that we are already attending a funeral.” the man’s pale, bony hands slid out of his sleeves. His waxy skin, a diseased yellow in the candle light. A hissing, wheezing laugh cut through the air. “The situation is humorous, is it not? Your little charade has become real, You should be thanking me Captain, your efforts this morning were finally put to use.” The man's mouth curled, revealing brown stained teeth “Though his death, nor him, are why I am here visiting, now is it? Dr. Yin, you have a patient that should be in my care. A very old man, a very old - very dangerous, man. Why, you could even say he could change the fate of the world he’s so powerful! But seeing as how he appears to be healthy, he should be discharged into my care, no?” The man wheezed out another laugh, Nian Zhen felt her skin crawl. 

Agents poured in around her, spilling into the house, filling up every empty space between those left standing. Some took the bodies, others kept piling in taking up the space of the fallen. They closed in around Yae Song and Katara, forcing them down onto their knees and clamping earth shackles onto their wrists. A rock gag wrapped around their mouths and lower faces. Yae Song swayed on her knees, her limp arm bending at an angle Nian Zhen didn’t like. Katara tried to fight, snarling and lashing out at the agents near her, a few fell but soon (too soon) she was subdued. One agent on each limb, her arms covered up to her elbows in rock shackles. Sokka was no better, he had one soldier for each limb and one standing between his legs as he was forced to kneel. Nian took a deep breath, the ribs on her right side protesting at the movement. Yin was being brought to her side, shackled and gagged but standing and able to walk. Nian saw Katara try to look behind her, towards Aang, saw a small movement coming from him - he was waking up. They needed to distract the agents and the man leading the Dai Li until Aang could wake up. 

“Unfortunately, we aren’t allowed to release patients to unauthorized and unknown peoples.” Nian Zhen retorted as two agents forced her to her knees, another one came in front of her and shackled her hands between her knees. “Seeing as we don’t know you, so our patient clearly doesn’t, and you haven't completed the necessary paperwork, we are unable to release our patient into anyones care other than ours.” Nian rolled her head to one side, giving the diseased man a dismissive glare. 

“Captain Zhen, it has been far too long. I am hurt that you have forgotten me, though I guess the last time you saw me you were still a young trainee. Your old master was such a nuisance. It was quite a lovely day when I finally caught her.” the man sneered, his thin lip curling up “My name is Nie Zhizhu, and I am the man keeping the glory of this city safe by keeping the rotting stink of your lot out.” the man spat out, his decaying teeth gnashed at her, “Half breeds like you deserve nothing more than to be my play _things_ until _I_ decide I’m through with you.” “I decide what happens to disgusting, worthless things like that invade our city. You should be grateful I’ve let you exist for so long, your master did such a good job of hiding where you had come from that even the imbeciles in the army accepted you. You should have died on the Wall, _Captain_ . It’s a shame that Yeon Woo took your place that day. _”_

Nian Zhen froze at the mention of her old master, the woman that had saved her from glorified slavery, and suddenly she knew who Nie Zhizhu was. He was the one who had crushed and slit her master's throat. He was the one that killed her co-commander, Yeon Woo, the one she had been in the running with to get promoted to Captain. The day that she had been scheduled to take watch, when an entire platoon of soldiers were wiped out, Yeon Woo had taken her spot so she could go see Yin. He was the man that orchestrated Yeon Woo’s and now Ming Je’s deaths. Nie Zhizhu was the man responsible for the murder of the ones she loved. As realization flooded her, Nie Zhizhu’s deranged laughter seeped through the air. 

“Oh yes, dear little captain. It has been a long time since we have seen each other, but do not think for a single second, that I have not known where you were. That I have not kept track of every filthy step you have taken inside of my city.” Nie Zhizhu stepped closer, slunk further into her house. “I have followed you for years, little captain” he sneered, close enough now that Nian could smell the rot of his body “I have worked so very hard to break you, _mudling_ ,” the slur cut through the air as he spat at the ground in front of Nian “And yet for the first time in your miserable, useless life, you have something of meaning.” Nie Zhizhu flung his arm back to point at Aang, kneeling and cuffed - head lolling in front of his body “And I will be taking it.” He turned back, away from Nian and Yin, and walked towards where Aang was and where Yae Song was collapsing. He looked down at her, the knobs on his spine poking out through his skin like gravel. He clicked his tongue in disgust, and threw up a hand. The earth in front of Yae Song erupted, spearing her through the chest. The beige stone of the entryway sloughed with red, Yae Song’s head flung back and her eyes widened, the world coming back into focus to her for a second before closing as she fell forward, sinking deeper onto the stalactite in her chest. Nian Zhen felt Hui Yin struggle, the gag in her mouth muffling her screams, the manacles holding her to the ground - her thrashing reduced to shimmying. She watched as Sokka and Katara did the same, ramming themselves against their captors and shackles. Toph, who was being held above the ground, was screaming to know what was happening. 

“Revolting.” Nie Zhizhu flicked his hands as if he was flinging dirt off of them “Remove the filth and wake the Avatar.” The agents closest to Yae Song lifted her up and dragged her body out of the house. Aang had started to rouse with Toph’s screaming, his head rolling up to the noise. More agents walked over to him, one crouched down in front of him and the other stood directly behind him. The one in front slapped him across the face, his hand hitting skin and the sound cracking through the air. Aang’s head snapped against the contact, Katara struggled harder against her captors. His eyes opened, looking around at the sudden noise and feeling, the agent backhanded him. The knuckles leaving marks against Aang's pale skin, his eyes wide in shock. 

“Ahh, good evening Avatar. I’m glad you are back with us.” Nie Zhizhu sauntered towards the avatar, “Because I am a kind man, I have waited until you are awake to tell you.” he flicked his wrist and a small stone pillar came up, sitting Nie Zhizhu continued, “You will be coming with me. My benefactor wants to meet you. Only you. I am telling you this because I do not care what happens to you nor your friends nor anyone in this place. I do not care about you. I do not care what happens to you.” Nie Zhizhu leaned back, crossing his legs and resting his folded arms on his raised knee, “I am telling you this to make my job of bringing you back easier. I am a busy man, this is a large and glorious city, and you are making it rot. So I do not _care_ about you young airbender. You will come with me, with or without your life.” he leaned further still, his rotting teeth next to Aang's ear, “Do you understand me, Avatar?” Aang’s wide eyes took in their surroundings, the blood soaked floor next to him, the gags and shackles, the legion of Dai Li agents crammed into the house - and nodded his head. Nie Zhizhu uncrossed his legs and stood, turning back to Hui Yin and Nian Zhen. Behind him, Katara and Sokka were trying to get Aang to look at one of them. The hand marks on his cheeks darkening with each second, his lip swollen, his right eye bruising - Aang looked at Katara, they held each other's gaze for a long moment, before they both turned to look at Nian Zhen - questioning. Nian nodded. It was ok, they knew what to do. The plan still held. 

“Dr. Yin, seeing as that I am a man of great care, and great patience, I have allowed you to take care of my charge and his little friends for some time now. That time has ended.” Nie Zhizhu stood, and used the tip of his shoe to push Ming Je’s body away from the table as he picked up Ming Je's abandoned glass of soju. He sipped, “You have had your fun, and I have been very, very patient.” the glass the man was holding cracked “I have come for my patient Dr.Yin. And I now will be leaving with him.” the glass exploded. 

The room went up in flames. 

Aang moved quickly, curling his hand and pushing up, a spear of air knocking his captors head back against the wall, the rock cuffs around his hands dropped as their bender fell to the ground and launched himself at the nearest set of candles and explosives that they had laid out before dinner. Bending the air around the flames to swirl onto the next set of explosives, two down, thirteen to go, they had to be out by the seventh or else they _wouldn’t_ be getting out at all. Toph was supposed to close all exits from top to bottom to seal in the flames and explosions. 

As Aang was setting the explosives off, Sokka started to release himself from his captors. He leaned forward pushing all his weight into his right shoulder and putting all the power into his left leg, kicking up and striking hard at the captor behind him. With a cry of pain and surprise the agent went down. Sokka kneeled, breathing deep, and used his shackled wrists as a club. He swung at the guard standing on his right - bringing his clubbed hands down on the guards temple. His shoulders screamed at the effort, wrists crunching and twisting painfully beneath the rock as he used his momentum from the downswing to bring his hands up and into the jaw of the guard on his left. The guards jaw made a loud crunching sound as their head flung back, their whole body going rigged as they fell to the floor. His circle of captors down to just one, Sokka charged. 

Near him, Toph kicked out at the agent holding her. A thick pillar of earth shot out of the ground and hammered into the body of the agent next to her, sending him flying back like a toy being kicked in the middle of a tantrum. The agent slammed into others as they flew back, all of them smacking into the wall with a sickening thud. Toph, feet back on the floor, relaxed into her stance. Sliding one foot forward, she sunk a platoon of agents into the stone. Feet poised, a clear stretching divide around her, Toph started working on pulling the earth down to cover the windows, top to bottom. Ceiling to floor, locking them all in. 

On the other side of the room, Katara took a deep breath in through her nose, and let it out slow and controlled. The temperature around her dropped and ice formed around the guards near her. She stood slowly, breathing out the whole time, and the ice crept further up the legs of the guards - hardening and growing as she stood. The rock cuffs and gag dropped from her, the guards around her frozen in huge blocks of ice, their faces frozen in varying stages of bewilderment and fear. She whipped her body around, swirling and gathering water around her, lashing out with ice speared hands to any that came close. The temperature around her dropped further, ice pooling at her feet, hardening and slicking the stone around her. She moved like a shark, hunting her prey - freezing them to the ground before her as she took them down one at a time. Katara fought with a sharpened fury, precise as she could be - aiming for quick deaths, not yet good enough for strict immobilization. Nian Zhen found the irony of having to kill enough to learn effective immobilization to have a certain type of despairing humor. 

Nian and Hui Yin had taken advantage of the chaos, using their cuffs as clubs and Nian as an added weight to her knives. A barrage of rock and earth came at them, separating them. Nian saw Hiu Yin hit, the rock pushing her and slamming her into the remains of the dinning table. Nian ran to her, her cuffed arms held out like a battering ram, knives out, heart sinking. She dropped to Hui Yin, blocking a small boulder of earth flying at them. 

“You have to go!” Nian Zhen yelled out to Katara “NOW!” blocking another avalanche of stone

“We can’t leave you! Toph isn’t done yet!” Katara called out over the sound of earth, freezing and hunting the soldiers around her

Hui Yin struggled to sit up, her left arm hung uselessly at her side, blood dripped down her temple.

“Get the others and leave! We can handle things here!” Nian Zhen grunted as a rock fist hit her, they wouldn't last much longer with the way things were going, let alone if everyone tried to escape.

“GO!” Hui Yin made deliberate eye contact with Katara, she nodded and Katara gave one quick, sharp nod and turned to Sokka.

“Sokka! Aang! Get Toph! We’re leaving!!” Katara yelled over the scraping and clashing of earth

“I’ve got her!” Sokka bellowed back, “Go! GO GO GO!” 

Toph peeled back the earth wall in front of them, and they dove out, onto the ground below. Aang cushioned their fall, a small hurricane lifting them from the ground and spilling them out into the alley. Sokka grabbed the packs they had hidden behind the neighboring ramen shops dumpster and they took off running down the alley, towards the crowded street leading to the market.

Behind them, the clinic went up in flames. 

Nian Zhen watched as the kids jumped out from their living room. A flood of relief crashing through her. Hui Yin pulled herself up, leaning heavily onto Nian. 

“Imbeciles! You degenerate filth!” Nie Zhizhu screamed from where he had been observing from the stairs. “Useless! After them immediately!” he was nearly purple in the face, the vein on his thin skeletal throat standing out. Nie Zhizhu stalked forward, the fight parting before him, as he glared down at Nian Zhen and Hui Yin, battered in the living room. Nian lifted her knives, Hui Yin lifted her fist - her harpe sword lying broken on the ground at their feet. 

The kids were out, they were gonna be ok - they had to be. 

Nian Zhen looked around, they were in the middle of the dining room now, it had to - ah! There! Nian darted to the corner, grabbing one of the bundles Yae Song had left, and ran back to Hui Yin. Wrapping a hand around Yin’s waist, holding her, Nian brought the small package of explosives up. Hui Yin nodded, and gave Nian a tired smile before she kicked a candle over in front of them.

“I love you” soft and true

“And all that’s after” quiet and honest

Nian bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Yin.

The ground shook as the clinic exploded. 

  
  
  


𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ~~ 
> 
> i hope you are all doing well and that you and your loved ones are staying safe and healthy! 
> 
> this chapter was really interesting to write, i got to do a lot of research and learned a lot! originally i wanted to have this chapter focused on just one thing, but things happened and i got distracted and now there are many things! i changed some names around to the behest of my beta reader, Shu Lan is now Nian Zhen and Zhi Ruo is now Yae Song ~ 
> 
> there is lots of action in this chapter, and i want to give everyone a trigger warning again - there are graphic depictions of violence so please read at your own pace! 
> 
> also! the spirit described is based on the Forest God in Princess Mononoke (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	6. The Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep in the bellows of the earth, memories surface and paths are found.

Chapter 6

The Quiet

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

They ran.

They ran until there were too many people to run around.

They ran until there was no room to run at all.

They ran until Sokka slid around a corner, into a side street that dead ended into a wall and a storm drain.

They ran until they couldn’t.

Until they were so deep inside the drainage system of Ba Sing Se that even Toph didn’t know where they were. 

They ran until everything around them was as dark and lost as they felt. 

They fell asleep like that, hidden around a corner, deep in the pitch, inky black. 

Curled around each other, Sokka woke first. Damp and sore, he shifted forward from where he had fallen asleep sitting up, and felt around for the rest of the Gaang. Katara sat facing the way they came, supposedly watching guard, the steady rhythm of her breathing betraying her. Aang was curled against Toph's side, Toph herself was spread eagled - stretching across the cool ground, feet slightly lifted. Sokka felt around a little more, making sure that they had their packs, before he tried to mentally go through the list of what they had actually packed versus what they had said they were going to put in their packs - hoping that someone had brought something flammable and something that they could use to light said flammable thing on fire. If not, then they were at the whims of Aang's' superpowered fire bending. Sokka knew that in the Real World, Aang had a pretty good grip on fire bending - here though, in this weird, dangerous Dream World, Sokka wasn't sure. This Aang was taller, muscles leaner, his cheeks were still plump - but the bones underneath were starting to cut smooth lines on his face. Dream Aang was definitely older than Real Aang, but age held nothing in bending control and he'd really like to keep his eyebrows this time thank you very much. 

Despite this Aang's physical differences - which he didn't really know how to process that his brain dreamt that Aang was older -Sokka knew that Aang shouldn’t be asleep. That after taking a hit hard enough to be unconscious, the last thing he should be doing was sleeping soundly (ie. snoring loudly) on the floor of an ancient subterranean cave tunnel thing. But Aang had been down and out from the count the moment they had stopped running, Toph right behind him - and after everything they had been through he would have been surprised if any of them had been awake longer than a few minutes. Sokka could feel Aang's great heaves of air, steady and slow, could hear the soft mumbles of someone sleep talking, the snorting and snuffling of his little family fast asleep. He guessed the sleep talking was Toph, if any of them were prone to sleep talking or sleep bending it was her or Aang. He'd been rock-shot and air-kicked enough times in the dead of the night to be able to accurately guess who was the one to sleep farthest from. He counted it lucky that they had always managed to camp far enough from an open water source that he didn't have to deal with Katara too. Sokka chuckled at the memories before what he had thought hit him - Sokka froze.

Toph.

They had fallen again. Sokka _had let them_ ** _fall_** _again._ Even if Aang had been there to slow them with his air bending, they had still _fallen._ And there was nothing he could do, nothing he could have _done_. It had already _happened_. It was done. It was _over. It_ ** _happened_**. He needed to _Let. It. Go._ Move on Sokka. They _fell._ They _lived._ _Move on._

He needed to get. Over. **_IT_ **. 

But he _couldn’t._

The feeling of the air going past him, the feeling of nothing underneath him but everything _with_ him. 

_The weight of_ _a life in his arms._

Air stuttered in his chest, it moved around like a creek caught in a loop - it swelled and surged within him. Rushing through his lungs, swirling through his body, trapped against his heart. There was no way _out._ But there was no way _in_ either. He was trapped, trapped and forever stuck in the feeling of _falling_ . He was forever anchored in the feeling of being suspended in the air. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t let this happen again, he couldn’t _live with this._

In the midst of his hell, Sokka left his body.

The corners of his vision darkened and he watched himself sink further on to his knees - hands clutched at his chest, clawing at his throat, forehead bent to the ground. Sokka tried to breathe, he did, he _wanted to_ . He wanted to live and he wanted to breathe but he was _falling_ and he couldn’t _stop_.

The last thing Sokka remembered was watching his body shudder and his shoulders sag to the floor. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Katara woke, her body jerking against the stone, pulling her out of the vague numbness of sleep. She woke to blackness. Pitch black, thick, inky darkness. Darker than anything she had seen before, darker than anything she had been _in_ before. Her eyes were open, she could feel it, but she couldn’t tell the difference between whether her eyes were closed or open. She felt out around her, trying to feel for anyone, any _thing_. Her hand slapped down hard on something next to her, it let out a squawk of surprise - a strange screech of pain and unawareness. It sounded like Sokka when he fell out of the clinic bed that one time - she slapped around it again. 

“Stop!! STOP!! What the FUCK?!! STOP!” Yup, that was Sokka. “OW!!” STOP!! SHIT!!!” Definitely Sokka. She gave one last slap to confirm - “KATARA!” yup. Confirmed. Alive, breathing, and finally awake, Sokka.

Katara patted around some more, gentler this time - until she found another two bodies. One all lean muscle and snores - Aang. One shorter, muscles slender but firm, sleep talking softly - Toph. Breathing deep, and slow. Katara was glad they were sleeping, _recovering_ from the night before. Thoughts of fire and earth tore through her. The sound of Ming Je’s body thudding against the wood of the table, of Yae Song coughing out the last of her life. The feeling of falling, the rushing of air, of bodies slamming against hers as they ran. The cold of the earth as they fled, blind and helter skelter through the bellows of the earth, deep _deep_ beneath the city. Wet and tired from the storm drains, burrowed within the earth. There were three bodies with her though. Three breathing bodies with her in the dark. They were together, they had made it out. _They_ had. Ming Je hadn’t. Yae Song hadn’t. Nian Zhen hadn’t. Dr. Hui Yin hadn’t. All those soldiers, all those agents, all those people - _hadn’t._

Yae Song, with her rough teaching - her insistence on perfection and drilling. Her harsh love, the tight embraces; the head slaps, shoulder punches, the too tight hugs, too soft goodbyes. Ming Je, his quiet chaos - the inability to tell her that she hadn’t done something good enough, his metaphors that made no sense - too abstract for him to even understand where they came from. Nian Zhen, who pushed Katara to her best - an unspoken knowledge that things were going to end, and that they were going to end _soon_ . So Nian pushed her harder - one thing wrong here meant an entire lifetime of disability. Pushed the importance and pushed the necessity, pushed her to love herself - to see herself as the woman she was becoming and as the important team member that she was. Hui Yin, the doctor. The one who loved Nian Zhen beyond all else. The one who taught Katara the importance of caring, if Nian Zhen taught her the medical skills then it was Hui Yin who taught her the skills of care. Hui Yin was a hard woman, when she loved she _loved_ and when she didn’t she _didn’t._ But she had cared for them, with all she had, with all she could give.

Katara wanted to break into pieces. 

Wanted to shatter. To stop being human and just fall into the earth and the be absorbed into nothing. To stop being, to stop feeling.

Katara just wanted to _stop_.

To break herself to pieces and have the time to be put back together. To feel how each side connected with the next, how each part of her had broken - she wanted to learn how to put herself back together again. They didn’t have time though. Weeping and mourning, to revert back into being a human, would have to come after they escaped, when they had Appa, when they were far, far away. When Ba Sing Se was nothing more than part of the distant horizon. Then, and only then, would she mourn. Only then, would Katara allow herself to exist. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Aang woke to yelling. 

Familiar yelling. Yelling that was still too close and too loud to be acceptable this close to consciousness. He would say “this early in the morning” but he honestly had no idea where he was or what time it was, let alone if it was day or night. Sokka and Katara were trying to decide what the next plan was. Sokka was arguing that now they had to wait for Toph to wake up to tell them where they were before they did anything. Katara was arguing that they needed to start moving or else they were going to be found.

Aang didn’t really want to get involved.

Sokka and Katara were both smarter and older than he was. He may have the power of the Avatar, and technically he was 115 (closer to 116 now, time was moving too fast, they were running out of options), but he knew that they each had years worth of experience surviving and living through things that he couldn't even imagine. That was kinda the whole ~thing~ at the South Pole. That it wasn’t a place for humans to live (too many spirits, not enough of anything else), and that the ones that did live there were stronger - harder than other humans. That the South Pole was _dangerous_ and the ones that _chose_ to live there were not to be reckoned with. They chose to live in the spirit wilds, to coexist within an ice desert with beings that had untold power. The people there didn't just _survive_ \- they lived.

The frozen tundra had become a part of them, the people were so attuned to the spirits that they themselves had started to become something not entirely human. 

It’s why he was going there in the first place. The whole reason he got frozen in the _south pole_ was because he was going to meet with the people there to learn their way of life, of how to live with spirits and how to become something more than himself. He had grown up with gurus and monks and had grown exhausted of the constant theorieticals. He appreciated them, with all his heart, but he was the _Avatar._ And life was more than onion-banana juice and chakras. He needed to not just learn about real life, but to _experience_ it. To live and breathe it and become grounded and human again. He had to learn how to make the hard choices - the kind of choices monks and gurus didn't talk about. Didn't even acknowledge. But they had said the world was at _war,_ and if he was going to have to be the spirit damned Avatar in a time of war he needed to know things the monks didn't teach and that gurus didn't acknowledge. 

Monks didn’t teach war, they taught what happens _after_ the war and the philosophy of human existence, and chakras, and fruit tarts, but they didn’t teach _war._ They didn’t teach life or death, they taught what came around them. Aang had learned how to deal with death for so long that he didn’t even understand it anymore. To him, death was so ingrained and attuned to his daily living that he couldn’t even separate out his feelings about it anymore. Death was just something that _happened,_ like the world turned, or the way he got wet when it rained . It happened all the time, everywhere and there was nothing he could do about it. It just _was._ It had gotten to the point that Aang didn’t even understand why other cultures made such a big deal out of it - why some had such elaborate rituals for the dead, for the dying - for _death_ itself. Death happened when the sun rose, plants that wilted and died at the first light. For the grass that was stepped on, the leaves that were eaten, for those that died in their sleep without knowing it. Death happened in the day - for the fruit picked for meals, for those that died in war, for the accidents, the births, the falls, the _everything._ Death just _happened_ , and if he wanted to learn about it and how to better himself, then he had to go to the South Pole. 

So he left. 

Aang heard the monks talking, and decided that if he was supposed to get an education on life then the best place to go was where life was the hardest. Where the spirits openly wandered and became something entirely _else_ . He didn’t know whether to hate his past self or to love them, because he had two southern water tribe people with him - and he couldn't have chosen or found anyone better. Sokka just _knew_ things - he was smart and clever, even if he had gotten a little weird after his attack. Katara was strong and smart and gorgeous, and made his chest feel weird. Together, Aang had no doubts that they would find Appa and escape the city.

Especially with Toph.

Toph was hard, he didn’t like her most of the time but loved her _all_ of the time. She was the human embodiment of earth; steady, unyielding, dangerously strong. She made him work and work _hard._ The harder Toph made him work, the more he didn’t have to think. Each training session with Toph was like a reprieve from his own thoughts, from the whole entire world and horrors outside - when he was with Toph he just got to _be_ . He focused on the burn of his body, the push and pull of the earth, feeling everything deep within and holding it. It made him want to push harder, to do better, get stronger. With each session, he could feel the earth pulling at him - a constant presence now in his mind calling to him, tugging at him to _feel._ It was the same sensation as when he first learnt to air bend - how much he had to struggle just to keep his feet on the ground - the pull of the air too much, giving in to the weightlessness. Earth was the exact same, but he wanted to be buried; to feel the weight on him, holding him still, keeping him alive. Toph worked him hard, and he didn’t want to stop. 

Aang could feel the tunnel around them, he could feel how deep they were. There was nothing living near them, his sensory skills weren’t as good as Toph’s, but he could feel enough. And what he could feel was nothing but rock. The quiet of the earth around them was deafening. Their little group was the only thing he could feel for _miles._ He needed Toph to wake up so that he could confirm with her, to make sure - because if he was right, then they were lost. Deep in the blackness, lost beneath the largest city on the planet, hunted and alone. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Toph wakes to quietness. 

Almost quiet. She wakes to Katara, Aang, and Sokka trying to figure out where they are - as loud as usual. Which for them right now, was way too loud for Toph’s taste. The quietness is what really got her attention, the usual _loudness_ of the usual earth was gone - animals, people, insects, talking, moving, the constant feel of life was missing. Not gone, but it told her how far away they were from _anything_. They were very, very far away.

The constant movement of the earth slid against her skin, moving deep in her bones. Toph tried to think back on how they got there, she started at the clinic - the feeling of warmth and cool stone floors. Loud voices, she remembers the push and pull of the earth, sinking and heavy. The barrage of fighting, the eight of them versus the over fifty of the Dai Li - the surge of adrenaline and fear. There had been too many of them in too small of a space - Sokka and her had been in the kitchen area, Katara, Aang and Yae Song had been closer to the front door, Hui Yin and Nian Zhen held the front line of the living room.

She had felt Ming Je go down.

Felt the earth slide and pull and then the next thing she knew he was _down_ . Earth had pierced through him, faster than she could move. She had barely felt the stone of the floor they were sitting on shift. It made her think of the time when she had been younger and had escaped from her parents house during the wet season, how there had been a sudden onslaught of wet and cold from _nowhere_ . She was drenched before she could bend a shelter, but when she did the earth was too heavy for her to lift - too close to liquid to be called earth and she had been too little to pull up earth from deeper down where it was still solid. Toph shuddered at the memory, how fast the world had changed, how quickly she had become totally blind - how fast things were _gone_. She thought of Ming Je, sharp witted and funny. Gentle encouragement through loud words, and delicious food - he had felt strong, courageous. She had wanted to spend more time with him, learn more things from him, run reckless through the market with him again. She thought of a quick pull of earth and a sharp breath. A sudden warm weight next to her. 

Toph tried not to think anymore. 

She knew earth bending was dangerous. Knew that _humans_ were dangerous. She had learned that the hard way. Her time as the Blind Bandit had taught her many things; how to make friends, how to be herself, how to fight, how to kill. The Rumble had been an illegal underground fight circuit. She had had to learn many things, and learn them fast - the consequences of her own actions were not a mystery to her anymore. Bending was a dangerous thing; coveted by some, used by others, but most of the time they were weapons. 

Toph had fought enough people to know that there were those out there that _enjoyed_ using their bending against others. How some people didn’t pull back, that were a little too eager to fight. How some had come to matches looking to fight. How some came to matches looking to lose. She had fought all of them, had heard the rest. There had been matches where her opponent had come at her hard and fast _(too hard and too fast)_ \- pushing the earth into spikes and rough columns that were meant to harm and damage. There had been people who _enjoyed_ those matches. Those matches always paid more. A child prodigy versus a battle hardened soldier out for blood - to hurt and be hurt in return.

There was no rule that matches were only for the living.

She had fought plenty of corpses parading as men, of demons looking to hurt and kill with the excuse of fighting for the belt. She had fought, she knew. Knew what it took to pull back so that there were only bruises and bones. 

Toph loved her bending, loved to hear the earth move with her. It was a part of her that she couldn’t describe, it didn’t have a name like hands or feet or soul. She _was_ earth, her bones thick and strong, sturdy and unmoving in ways other people weren’t. Attuned to the life that shifted deep, so very very deep, beneath their feet. Thick dark heat that radiated and surged like a heartbeat, constantly shifting and rolling under her skin, their planet was alive and she could hear its heart better than her own. 

The others around her continued to argue, something about what they could light on fire, Toph decided to not pay attention, it would be more entertaining to see the outcome rather than hear the process - and instead focused herself _down_ . Spreading her senses deep into the earth, pushing out and down - trying to see where they had ended up. They had started in the lower ring, the clinic had been somewhere near the train station - surrounded by market streets and a military recruitment center. Now though, Toph could only feel tunnels. There was no sign of life anywhere near them. Toph pushed up, reaching for the surface to see if there would be any signs of _anything._ Toph stilled. _._

“Everybody shut up.” 

“Wow. Rude. Good waking time to you too, Toph.” Sokka grunted. Toph didn't want to unpack whatever Sokka had meant by "waking time" - she had known that they had escaped into the storm drains, and that they had gone underground - but if Sokka didn't know what time it was let alone what time of the day it was - that could mean that they had been underground for way longer than even she had originally thought. It was a lot to think about, and Toph didn't like the potential implications. So she decided to focus on where they were and how to get out ASAP. 

“Toph!! Are you ok?” ” Are you hurt anywhere?” Aang and Katara talked over each other, Katara reaching out to slap Sokka, Aang ignoring him in favor of falling over their packs trying to get to Toph's side of the tunnel. Guessing by the wet spray that came off of him as he fell nearly on top of her, Toph had interrupted a healing session - good for Aang, bad for barely conscious stressed out Toph. 

“Aang. Have you tried to sense where we are yet?” She ignored them, choosing to focus on the important things. She needed to know if Aang had tried to sense where they were yet, to either confirm her fears or to give her something else to go on. Clearly the others were catching on, the mood shifted - from frustrated consciousness to tense and quiet. 

“I tried, but I couldn’t see anything. You’re the best at it, but there wasn’t anything out there.” Aang admitted, quiet and serious

“Obviously, I’m the best. I invented it.” she rolled her eyes, “ That doesn’t matter though. That's not what I'm asking. Look again. What do you see, right now? Focus."

Aang went quiet, “Nothing. I can’t see anything, all I can see are tunnels, there’s no life anywhere near us.”

“Correct. There's nothing around or below us. Now, try to look _up_.”

“Oh spirits.” Aang whispered

“Yup.” Toph nodded in the dark

“So that sounds super cool and all. But hey! What the _fuck_ does that mean? Because not saying things equals not good things which makes me _feel_ not good things - like anger. and panic.” Sokka stood, arms flailing, his voice rising to nearly a shriek by the end 

“We’re in the Middle ring. Almost to the Upper ring. But we’re not in a storm drain anymore.” Toph explained

“Not helpful!” definitely shriek level panic now

“Sokka shut up. Toph, if we’re not in a storm drain, where are we?” Katara leaned over and shoved him, pushing his knee so it buckled, making him stumble and squawk 

“We’re in a tunnel.” Aang answered

Sokka threw his head back and groaned from where he sat on the rock floor.

“Listen shithead, it’s not a _drain_ anymore. It’s a _tunnel_ .” Toph turned to where she saw Sokka facing the tunnel wall and tried very hard not to punch him, “With how deep we are right now, that makes these tunnels way older than the drains. Meaning that those drains _connected_ to these tunnels - or even better - were made _from_ them. Why is there a tunnel system in the first place? Can you even guess how deep underground we are right now?? Do you have any idea how spirit damned old that means these are?! Thousands and thousands of years Sokka! There’s _no way_ for these to exist naturally - it doesn’t make sense. Earth doesn’t move like this, and there are definitely no badger moles here - so that either means it's spirits, or something else. And honestly - I really _hate_ all of those options.” 

Sokka sucked in a breath, “Oh fuck.” he stood again, and started pacing, "Oooooh FUCK.” realization thick through his voice, “I know where we are.” 

“Sokka _what. The. Fuck._ does that mean _”_ Toph ground out, when he paced it never meant anything good. It either meant that he had come up with some sort of plan, or that something _needed_ a plan.

“No no - not like that - I know what we’re _in_ . I have no spirit forsaken idea _where_ we are - but I know that the only thing under Ba Sing Se is _Ba Sing Se_.” his footsteps crunched over stone, back and forth through the dark. 

Katara dropped her head into her hands, Toph commiserated - she wanted to beat her head into the nearest wall. Luckily, Aang was still with them and just as confused as they were.

“I dunno Sokka,” Toph could practically hear Aang’s hands twisting his glider around, nerves eating away at their new found energy.

Sokka stopped pacing and turned to where he thought their group was, “The original Ba Sing Se.”bringning his hand up to his chin, he rubbed at the soft raised line, “There’s an ancient city under the palace that’s believed to be the original Ba Sing Se settlement. The city we know, that we’re under - isn’t the original. It was built over the ruins of the first city.” he walked a few paces from their group and took a deep, steadying breath “I think these tunnels lead to those ruins.” 

He remembered the aftermath of what had happened last time, Aang being lifted out of the caverns, lightning scared and limp. Katara sobbingshaking hands blue and glowing. He could feel himself detaching, some part of himself that suddenly became aware of his lifespan and the connection his loved ones had to Azula. A subconscious part of himself trying to distance itself from the horrors and pain that always, _always,_ came with Azula. But there was _no way_ that she would be here this time. Dream World Fire Nation was apparently in a civil war, and apparently it was Zhao that was hunting them incessantly, not Zuko. Which Sokka didn’t doubt for a second, but he did doubt every single thing the others had been saying about Azula and the rest of the royals. Zuko couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. Impossible. 

_Azula always lies._

Sokka refused to believe it, he shook his head, trying to erase his thoughts and start over with a clear head. He needed to concentrate on how to get out of this shithole and how to _wake up._

“Oh spirits.” Katara breathed out, hand moving to cover her mouth

“That’s not even the best part.” Sokka gave his best jazz hands to the black void around them, “The Dai Li head quarters are under Lake Laogai.” Sokka smacked his no-longer-jazzy hands into his head.

“And?” Toph stood, cocking her head to one side

“The Dai Li have Appa. At their headquarters.” 

“Sokka, where are you going with this?” anxious, Katara leaned forward towards where she thought Sokka was

“The lake is connected to the ruins, isn’t it?” Aang’s grim whisper cut through the dark, 

“Oh fuck.” Toph groaned. She had a feeling things were about to get even more complicated and very dangerous. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

They walked. 

Toph led the way, followed by Aang, and then Katara and Sokka - holding their makeshift torch of his shirt and the jerky he had packed, all wrapped up and delicious smelling around a thin rock that Toph had bent. It wasn’t great, but it was better than when Aang had tried to firebend and nearly took off everyone's eyebrows. After that, everyone agreed that firebending should wait until they weren’t in a confined, ancient underground tunnel. Or at least, it could wait until this torch ran out and they had no other options. Plus, then if Aang did burn off all their hair, then at least it would be dark and no one else would see except for Aang and Katara but they would be hairless too, so it didn’t matter as much. 

So they walked. 

They walked until they couldn’t. Until even Toph's feet were sore, and then they walked some more. They had no way of telling time in the dark, so when they got too tired they simply stopped and rested until they could stand again. It wasn’t safe to bend, not with the Dai Li potentially following them or being able to detect them. There were too many “what ifs” for them to risk being found, so they walked. Through the dark, the tunnels hopefully leading them to the ruins. They went over ideas for rescuing Appa, but each idea led back to the fact that they first had to find an entrance into the headquarters. Which in turn circled back to the fact that they needed to find the ruins as fast as they could. If they found the ruins, then they at least had a marker for where they were. Sokka knew that in the Real World, they were under the palace - here though, he wasn’t sure. But if nearly everything else was the same (and Ba Sing Se was still a massive city nation even in this weird Dream World) then he assumed an ancient group of people would choose to settle in the same place. 

In some ways, Sokka was right. The ruins were there, deep under the palace. It was his first time seeing them, in his Real World, all he had seen was the aftermath of what had happened below the surface. He had been with the earth king, trying to get him to wake up to reality and see what was happening. Here though - he was tired and sweaty and close to _asking_ Aang to firebend. The torch had died ages ago, back when Toph called out that the earth had changed. That statement alone made Sokka on edge, but when they finally started to realize that the ground had started to slope upwards they all quieted, the rock under their feet changing from rough natural dirt to paved stone work. Their footsteps echoing loudly off the dead stone. 

It was _massive_. 

Sokka couldn’t believe that they were fathoms below the surface. He had never seen anything like it, and by the gasps of the others - neither had they. Sokka turned to see their reactions, even Toph looked nearly _reverant_. Her mouth parted in a small wonder, Sokka could’t imagine what this would be like for her. 

It was like they had entered the spirit world. They came out of the tunnel and into a cavernous underground city. Eerie pale green light coated everything, like fresh snow, illuminating and disorienting. They stood at what used to be an entrance to a watch tower, overlooking the pale green ruins. It made his skin crawl. His wonder drained away, leaving him nothing but unknown worry. There was something _wrong_ with the city. Even though he knew that they were ancient _ruins_ \- it felt alive. Throbbing with something that he could’t put a name to. Something writhed inside him, scraping against his organs, threatening to burst through his skin. He shuddered as the feeling dragged up his spine. Toph quirked her head at him, turning to face him from where she stood in front of him. 

“Do you guys feel that?” Aang whispered, uncertain and fearful

“I don’t like this.” Sokka watched Katara shiver as she spoke. He didn’t like the way the light shone, but he was glad for it - thankful to be able to see again without the threat of fire.Though he had forgotten how different this Katara looked, how much taller she and Aang were than what he remembered. Even Toph looked different, still short, but he remembered her barley coming up to his waist, now though she was nearly at his shoulder. Sokka thought back to seeing himself in the mirror for the first time at the clinic, he reached up to touch the scar that crossed his mouth - the softness of the raised skin long healed. Keloided, Ming Je had told him, lifting his own shirt to show a long raised line that thrashed through the side of his stomach. His body felt different here, _was_ different here. Dream him was scarred, had longer hair, his muscles more defined. He shook his head, now was not the time to be thinking about why this body was weird, nor why the others looked different, why they looked older - he had to focus on how to get through this city and how to find Appa without more people dying. They had found the city, now they need a plan. 

It took some looking, but they eventually found a ladder leading down to the street below. The thing inside Sokka slithered as he climbed down. It curled around his bones, squirming against his organs. Aang looked up at him from where he stood on the street. 

“Sokka, are you ok?” his brows furrowed, grey eyes searching

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just not a fan of heights.” Sokka kept his eyes forward, staring straight into the earth in front of him. He wasn’t going to pass out on a ladder in the ruins of an ancient city. _He wasn’t going to pass out._ He sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth, hands shaking as he reached for the next rung. 

“Since when? We’ve been riding Appa for months now and you’ve been fine.” Katara crossed her arms, and cocked her head up at him. 

“Since I fell to my death and woke up here.” He grit out, concentrating on finding the next rung. 

When his foot finally touched the street, Sokka nearly cried in relief. Toph bent a small step out of the edge of the watch tower ledge and used it to elevate herself down to the street level.

‘Toph! What are you doing!?!? Someone might have felt that! There might be someone in here and they could have seen you!” Katara whisper-yelled, it didn’t feel right to be loud in a place like this. 

“Calm down. I felt it out, we’re the only living things here.” 

Sokka turned to her, disgruntled “I don’t like how you said that.” 

“Yea, well, me neither. I can’t see anyone here with us, but I don’t like the _feel_ of this place.” 

“Agreed. Let's move fast.” The thing inside him curled under his ribs, wrapping itself around the fragile bones. 

“To where?” Aang asked, moving to stand next to Katara

“Anywhere but here. Let’s try and make it further into the city and then see if you can feel a tunnel or something that leads towards the lake.” Sokka started walking, ignoring the way Aang and Toph were looking at him, “At the very least, lets loop around to the other side, maybe if we go through the city there could be a map or something.” 

The feeling only got worse as they got closer to the center of the city. Well, not really the center because there wasn’t strictly a _center_ to the city.The cavern was open in center, with layers of living spaces carved out of the rock walls horseshoeing around the open area, the watchtower that they had climbed down from was on the outskirt of the horseshoe, next to what looked like something that could have been a water transport system. They decided to follow it, Sokka had figured that it would lead them to the most important building, or at least to the general area of where something was important or could be potentially useful. In a way, his theory was correct. What they found though, was not for the living. 

They followed the aqueduct, curving around the outline of the city, their feet echoing off the skeletons of long empty houses. It led them through ancient markets, past crystals emanating the pale green light, deeper into the cavern. Finally ending at the biggest building they had seen yet, disappearing into the side of a rock wall that jutted out with the rest of the great building from the rest of the cavern wall. As they got closer to where the aqueduct ended, Toph stilled - stoppingn so suddenly that Sokka ran into her back. Aang looked back at them from where he stood a step ahead, before the three of them turned to Toph. 

“We have to go. Right now.” Toph held her breath, color draining from her face, reaching her arm out to block Aang from moving forward. 

“Which way?” Aang whispered, the air thickened, turning heavy around them.

“Back. Quiet. Fast.” Toph didn’t turn around, instead she walked backwards, bending low, keeping her face towards the building, “Do not turn around. Whatever you do.” she breathed out, voice barley loud enough to be heard. They followed suit, the thing inside Sokka pulled at him to go towards the building, rippling under his skin. He pushed himself to go backwards, forcing his body to listen to him. He eyed the huge, sweeping stone wall - that’s when he saw it. No, saw isn’t the right word - he couldn’t see anything. Suddenly he _knew_ what was in there. He could feel it, crystal clear. 

Why the city had been abandoned. 

There was a Great Spirit behind those walls. 

The whole city was its den. And they had waltzed in without care, without any drop of respect - they had come in with curiosity and ignorance. They were lucky they had survived this long. Sokka could hear Katara’s breath hitch, watched as Aang grew pale, felt his own blood drain out of his body. How could they not have _known_ ? An acnicent city suddenly disappearing with out a trace? Rumors and tales of a mysterious abandoned city underneath the palace? How could they have been so oblivious - the city hadn’t disappeared - there had been a _spirit_ there. The ancient peoples would have seen the spirit and _gotten the fuck out like they should have done._ Sokka’s heart roared through him, he reached out and grabbed Katara’s arm, pulling her back with him. She reached out and grabbed the back of Aang’s shirt, tugging him to match Sokka’s and Toph’s pace. 

They kept low, trying to be as silent as they could possibly be, moving as fast as they could. If they bent, the spirit would know immediately. If they were caught? Sokka shook his head, he didn’t - couldn’t - imagine what would happen. It would be bad. Very bad. Worse than the Dai Li could ever hope to be. 

They crept, swift and silent, back the way they came. Toph pointed to guide them, none of them spoke, none of them did anything other than try to hold their breath and be as silent as they could. Sokka didn’t even _think_. After what felt like years, they finally came to the curve of the horseshoe, curving them around and out of sight from the building. Toph held up her hand, three fingers up and shook her hand twice. 

_“On the count of three.”_ Sokka tapped his foot twice, Katara and Aang followed suit, signaling their agreement. Toph kept moving backwards, step step - finger down, they crept further back still - the building completely out of sight now- second finger down, Sokka took a deep silent breath in, Toph pulled her last finger down into her fist. 

They ran. 

Fleeing down the ancient street, hearts in their throats, terror in their veins. 

It happened in an instant. 

One moment they were all running for their lives, the next - Sokka was nearly ten meters up in the air. In the same breath, the world vanished. The sickly, pale green light became white, blinding him. Sokka squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away from the light, averting his gaze. 

_“What is Yue’s chosen doing here.” it was not a question, the voice rang through his head demanding an answer._

_Sokka kept his eyes closed, face down, held in a fist bigger than his igloo “Great Spirit, I am assisting the Avatar in rescuing his animal companion. We meant no disrespect, we did not know this was your den Great One.”_

_“Do not jest with me, human. What are you doing here, in my domain. You are Yue’s chosen. Surely she has warned you.”_

_“Great One, forgive me, I do not understand what you mean. I have not spoken with Yue since her ascension.” the hand tightened around him, his ribs creaking painfully - the thing inside him fluttered and squirmed, burning where the spirit touched_

_“She has not visited you?” the spirit’s voice rang with curiosity and frustration, less malice now - but still enough to make Sokka think about his words._

_“No, Great One. You are the first spirit I have had the honour of greeting.”_

_“Oh ho ho, how very interesting.” the spirit unfurled it’s hand, allowing Sokka to bow. He ignored the relief he felt being able to breathe, and sank to his knees, forehead touching the spirits’ palm, his hands on top of each other in front of his head, eyes still closed._

_“Then I shall tell you nothing human, this will be far more enjoyable.” his body_ _burned_ _\- white hot pain shot through him, the thing inside him howled and grew - pushing at his bones flooding his lungs with searing hot pressure -_

the next thing Sokka knew; Aang, Katara, and Toph were pulling him up to his feet and forcing him to run. 

“Sokka!!” Katara yanked his arm forward, forcing him to move “You just _vanished_ , _what the fuck just happened?”_ She was nearly screaming now, tears and sweat poured down her face

“We have to leave right the _fuck_ **_now._** ” Sokka's’ legs shook as he tried to move, his body still screaming in pain - every movement felt like he was being branded with a hot iron. He didn’t know what had happened or what was supposed to be more enjoyable or what it had meant by Yue’s chosen or why everything was _burning_ \- but those questions would have to wait until they were out and _gone._ They ran back to the watchtower - thanking the Spirits that the water reserves were long dry, allowing them to run across the top of the horseshoe to the other side of the cavern and out through a crumbaling dilapidated watchtower. They didn’t stop running until they were once again, deep within the tunnels. Far, far, away from the Great Spirit's den. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Very, very, far away, Yue watched.

Very, very, close by, Appa roared. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! 
> 
> I hope you and all your loved ones are safe and healthy! Classes started for me, so life is kind of crazy right now - but i'm planning on trying to upload every saturday or sunday and if anything changes i'll make a post about it! 
> 
> This chapter was really hard to write, I've been really anxious/nervous about posting it because there's a lot that's beginning to happen and it's important to have this foundation as an understanding both of the character and for the world that this is. I also want to remind/announce that the characters here are older than they are in the original/canon universe - here toph is 14, aang is 15, katara/suki/azula/mai/tai lee are all 16, sokka is 17 going on 18, and zuko is 18. 
> 
> Also! The spirits in this world are not the same as before, they are much more ambivalent and generally align more chaotic neutral than anything. Some - like Yue and the other great spirits - are closer aligned to true neutral, and are more prone to interacting with others (if they view you as acceptable than they will assist you [for their own goals, not yours, there must always be something beneficial to them for them to interact with another being]) if they don't and view you as an enemy or someone unacceptable than they will eliminate the threat as they see fit. Most of the time though (especially the lower spirits) they are closer to neutral evil. Essentially - the spirits don't care at all about anything other than the things that concern them directly. Here's a link on alignment if you want to read more about it! 
> 
> http://easydamus.com/alignment.html
> 
> fun fact ~ for size i used attack on titan's scale for humans vs titans~ 
> 
> alright y'all - that's all i got! 
> 
> thank you for reading! i hope you and your loved ones stay safe and healthy!  
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	7. Still Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the spirits start moving

Chapter 7

Still Water 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

The spirit world was difficult to tell apart from where the humans lived. For Yue at least, it resembled the Northern Oasis. The sky was in a perpetual state of twilight, oscillating between deep purples and blues, to soft feather light pinks, tinted with oranges and yellows. Fading and glowing towards the horizon, the air was soft - a warmth that the real North had never known radiated. The sky was dusted with stars, shimmering through the border between her world and the one where the humans dwelled. This oasis, however, had no walls. Just vast, wide open tundra, stretching out into the beyond. The ice reflecting the twilight, mirroring the sky in its pale warmth. 

Yue loved it, part of her had never felt so _right_ before. She felt settled in a way she hadn’t known that she had been _un_ settled. She had loved her home, she still held affection for her people - though it was less love now, and more that they were _hers_ . She didn’t love them, her people were _part_ of her.

Yue particularly enjoyed watching her people through her pond, the same one her mortal body swam in. She lounged by the bridge, sometimes on it, and looked through the clear water to see what her people were doing. Sometimes she would change, and choose to watch Aang and the others, or she did until she had to get involved. 

Now though, she strolled through the warm grass, not yet pacing - but contemplative nonetheless. Her Viewing Pond, mirror smooth, showed glimpses of Sokka and the others running through black tunnels, Aang holding a glowing crystal - the sickly green light casting nothing but useless shadows. Yue walked off of the grass, over the bridge, and out onto the tundra. She felt little difference, immune to temperatures as a spirit - the greatest difference she felt was the smoothness of the ice in place of the softness of the grass. Yue walked, following the edges of the pond, the dark water smooth and silent next to her. She rounded the end of the pond, compared to the human pond, this one stretched out long and languid. It started in the center of the oasis, matching the one at the Northern tribe, but it continued far beyond the walls, out past where the palace would have been, nearly to the center of town, before gently curving to an invisible stop. If you looked out from her favorite place to lounge under the gazebo, the end of the pond merged with the horizon. Blending out into an infinite strip of liquid, soft, twilight.

As her feet touched soft grass, Yue bent and looked into the water to check on the others; Katara, Sokka, and Toph were all asleep while Aang kept watch, the crystal held tight against his chest from where it sat in his lap. Yue leaned back, still thinking, and walked to the bench under her favorite plum blossom tree. The petals full and fragrant, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, saturating herself in their scent.

The old wolf bat spirit had annoyed her greatly, she had known that there were rumors of her having picked a Chosen, and knew that _some_ of the older spirits might have figured out (or at least would have speculations) on who it could be - but she hadn’t anticipated an ancient _hermit_ spirit to figure it out. And yet not only did that infuriating cave dwelling recluse figure it out, but had also taken her Chosen _hostage_ just to toy with her. Yue seethed, the sheer _nerve_ of that lesser spirit to touch what was _hers._ It was lucky she didn’t go down to punish it, lucky she had to figure out a way to deal with Sokka and La first.

She wouldn’t forget though.

That spirit touched her _ Chosen. _ How  _dare_ they.

Yue’s eyes snapped open. She stood, and walked back to the pond. She checked on the others one last time, they were moving again - this time Sokka lead the way with Toph. She knelt down and touched the water where Sokka's shoulder was, pulling her finger through the water to the left and in turn, pulling Sokka with it. Satisfied that they were on the right path, Yue straightened. The image on the pond flickered to the wolf bat spirit, she smiled.

The best way to relieve anger was to deal with the source of it. Yue stepped into the water, she would deal with the old bat first, and then work on how to contact her Chosen. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka had come to the conclusion that the reason he couldn’t wake up was because his real body was probably in a coma. That was the only thing that made sense - he had to finish a task here in Coma Land, and then he would be able to wake up in his world. In the Real World. He just had to find Appa, get Appa out, and escape. Then he could wake up and die and finally be done.

He was _tired_.

He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t like how the spirits were here, he really didn’t like how the thing inside him kept _tugging_ and he really really really didn’t like the constant stress of expecting to die at any given second. Because his real body was going to give out, and it was going to give out _soon_ . It had to, he didn’t know how else he could still be dreaming. The only thing he could think of was that he had hit the ground so hard that he must have _bounced off it_ and survived somehow and now his mangled, broken body was on its way out but obviously his tiny little brian couldn’t handle the shock of _ricocheting off the earth_ so it knocked him out and was giving him one final adventure while his body died. And finally - _finally_ \- when his brain died too, he would be whole again. He could rest. He could see his family again. He could see his _mom_ again. Spirits, he was _so tired_. 

The thing in him tugged him to the left, a sharp jerk of ice behind his chest - like Katara had frozen the left side of his chest and then tried to pull the water back to her but it was still only soft ice. He still went though, Sokka figured that if it was leading him to something, it would either be Appa or another spirit. He hoped for Appa, but expected a spirit. Or the Dai Li. Or just whatever was going to be the absolute worst thing and decidedly not Appa or something the least bit helpful. Sokka decided to stop thinking about it, and instead closed his eyes and rolled his, cracking the stiff bones. As soon as he did though, Toph's arm shot out, punching him directly in the side. Sokka stumbled and yelped, Katara and Aang sank into their fighting katas, and Toph dug the front of her toes into the earth. 

“What the fuck Toph?” Sokka wheezed out, holding his side

“There are people on the other side of that wall.” Toph whispered, pointing to the tunnel on their left. 

“Oh shit." he winced, "How many? Can you see the layout?” Sokka stood slowly, trying to piece his thoughts and body together

“Lots. More than we can handle. All I can feel right now is that it’s _big_.” 

“That checks out. From what I remember, their base goes all the way out under the lake.”

“And down. It goes deep. Really deep.” 

“Okok, can you pull up a model of the layout you can see right now?”

“Done.” Toph shifted, her hands palm side down and knees bent inwards as she sank into a half squat, before pulling up - turning her hands palm face up as she rose. 

Aang stepped closer, holding the crystal out above the model.

It was huge, corridors twisted and turned, suddenly ending in seemingly random places. It put labyrinths to shame. Sokka put his hands on his waist and whistled low, at the same time Aang let out a sigh and fell back. Sinking into the earth like he would snow, arms and legs spread out wide. His frustration palpable. Sokka bent over the model, trying to remember what they had done last time. He remembered where they had ended up, that Appa’s cell had been on the outskirts of the lake, near a small piece of land that jutted out into the lake. Appa’s cell hadn’t been a fully enclosed cell, he thought back - there had been sunlight coming down from somewhere, meaning that it opened out somewhere to the surface. He tried to remember what Zuko had told him, but for as good as the guy was at being a ninja - he _sucked_ at explaining things. Zuko had told him about having to sneak past guys and how the door had been crazy heavy and that his uncle somehow found him there (which, honestly neither could Sokka - Iroh was the personification of an enigma) - but other than that Zuko’s explanations revolved more around sound effects and tactical language Sokka didn’t entirely understand. It was just intuitive for Zuko, his ability to find stuff (or people) was insane. 

They had played games about it back at the Temple (and then even more, intense competitive ones at the beach house). It started when Suki had bet that Zuko wouldn’t be able to find her fans that she had hidden, and ended less than ten minutes later with Zuko dropping said fans in her lap. It had escalated from there, each of them hiding things in increasingly elaborate and outlandish places. Eventually Zuko caught on, or he at least made it known that he knew what the rest of them were doing - none of them were entirely sure if Zuko knew that they were purposefully hiding things or if he honestly thought that Sokka had lost his detective hat in a birds nest thirty feet in the air.

Enter competitive hide and go seek.

That particular past time had started thanks to Haru, surprisingly. He and Zuko had been talk-arguing about something that had led Haru to betting that Zuko couldn’t find Aang, which somehow spiraled into a strange game of hide-and-go-seek-ambush-tactics-tag. Aang was limited to one element bending when bending was allowed - (but the group playing could also decide that any and all bending was ok)- but Zuko _found them every single time_. Toph had _buried_ herself once, and he had still found her. Sokka still wasn’t sure if he was impressed or weirdly scared of his weird talent? Skill? Ability? It was weird. Sokka didn’t like it. But he _was_ fascinated by it. 

Spirits, what he would give to have Zuko with them now. 

Sokka shook himself, shaking out his limbs and thoughts and the strange curling sensation that was crawling inside him whenever he thought of his world. Whenever he thought of them, of _his_ Katara, and Aang, and Toph, it was like he was suddenly jerked out of his body, out of _this_ body. The body that wasn’t his, that he was piloting around like an airship, looking out on the life below him like the model of the corridors he was looking at. Sometimes he was too tired to return to it, so he just stayed out and watched the body he was in run through the pitch black tunnels or argue with Katara. Ironically, being out of that body somehow made him feel more grounded, like it confirmed that he didn’t belong in it. That this body had a time limit, that it wasn’t his, that this whole life thing wasn’t his. Drifting above the body, above the others, allowed Sokka to take what was happening more seriously, because it wasn’t _his_ . He could do things that were a little more reckless, push himself a little harder, because it didn’t _matter_. Because he didn’t belong to this group, to that body, so he could do what needed to be done without regard for himself. 

Like right now. 

They had to infiltrate the Dai Li headquarters. One of the most dangerous military groups in history, and their infrastructure was no less dangerous. Appa’s cell was on the opposite side of the lake. Through an unknown amount of hostile, trained, and violent troops. Sokka remembered what the cell looked like, but only from the inside, from inside the Dai Li passageways- he didn’t know what it looked like from the outside, from where the sun shone down into the cell. If he did - that’s where they would be right now, not here underground, hiding outside the most hostile military force other than the Fire Nation. If he knew where Appa’s cell was from above ground - that’s where they would be, that’s the _ideal_ place for them to be, actually. But he didn’t. So they were stuck. He could guess where the cell would have been or might let out - but that would just be a guess. He _knew_ which cell door was Appas. He remembered, could picture it right in front of him. Sokka didn’t think he’d ever forget, mostly because they had found it right after they had left Jet. He would _never_ forget. Jet had been the first person Sokka had seen be thoughtlessly murdered. Sokka had seen people die, had seen hunters fight and become the hunted, and he knew that war meant dying, but he had never seen someone so _frivolously_ take someone's life. Long Feng had killed Jet in the same way that Sokka swatted a fly; without thought and with mild annoyance at the thing that had bothered him in the first place. It had been a swift and brutal lesson on humanity, and not one that Sokka would forget. 

And now they were back in Long Feng's domain. 

At least Jet wouldn’t happen again. 

Sokka sighed and shook his head. They were out of options, but at least he knew where their goal was. He could work with that, plus - there had to still be guards out looking for them which meant that there weren’t going to be as many guards inside as there _could_ be. Sokka bent down, sitting back on his heels, and looked at the model Toph made. They were beyond the palace now, Sokka turned their position and the castle’s position over in his head, trying to work out where they were and where he remembered Appa being - and then it dawned on him. 

They didn’t have to sneak _through_ the Dai Li headquarters. They had to sneak _on top of it._ The best way to not get killed or tortured by the Dai Li was to not get caught by them, and the best way to not get caught by them - was to not be close enough to them to let them catch you.

There were no waterbenders in the Dai Li.

Sokka jumped up, fists high. 

“Alright," Sokka swung his arms down and clapped, "Toph! Where’s the lake from here?” rubbing his hands together, a slow smile spreading across his face - he’d always loved his submarines. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Yue rolled languidly onto her back, stretching and sunning herself in the twilight, letting the water from her return lazily dry from her bare skin. After dealing with the old hermit, she felt much more relaxed, her thoughts came clearer to her, richer in their depth - less impulsive and more coherent. Yue raised her arms above her head and arched her back off the ground, her vertebrae popping in time with her breath. Closing her eyes, she felt the grass beneath her, the damp soft of the grass beneath her shifted as she sat up. Yue bent forward, leaning on one arm - and looked into the pond. 

Sokka was directing Toph on how to bend a stone box around them, so that when they opened the wall the lake wouldn’t flood the cave system. Katara and Aang were off to the side checking their packs, Momo spilled out from the bottom of Aangs’ bag, chirping his displeasure loudly. Yue was intrigued, whatever plan Sokka had was not what she had been expecting. She had been expecting them to struggle through the headquarters, sneaking and slashing their way through to Appa. Part of her was mildly annoyed that she wouldn't get to watch that particular scenario, but a larger part was overwhelmed with pride and curiosity. He never could do things simply, could he? Yue giggled at old memories as Sokka talked Katara through a strange series of movements that vaguely looked either like a cry for help or a strange, mildly disturbing show of attempted bending. Yue laughed out loud, the look on Katara’s face - pure bewilderment - was delightful and she would expect nothing else from her favorite pair of siblings. Aang brought Sokka his pack, and they all herded towards where Toph said the wall was thinnest between them and the bottom of the lake. 

Yue pulled her knees in under her, sitting up straighter, her wet clothes lying rumpled on the ground next to her smushed against her feet as she shifted. Things were about to get interesting. 

Toph peeled the wall down slowly in front of them while Katara and Aang bent the water around them, creating a kind of forcefield of water around them, and they stepped out into the lake. Toph sealed the wall back before she bent a walkway along the bottom of the lake, the ground was too sodden for them to walk on otherwise, and they marched forward. Sokka held the glowing crystal out, he stood in the center of their bubble - Aang and Katara bending on either side of him, Toph slightly in front stretching out their path. Sokka held the crystal in one hand, and their map of Ba Sing Se in the other, folded to show the lake, and spoke with Toph about something Yue couldn’t hear. Her pond let her watch what happened, but she was deaf to everything else. If she had had to breathe, she would be holding her breath. Yue reached out to touch the water around the groups bubble - guiding the life in the lake’s water away from them. The lake’s water was deep and dark, the crystal emitting its pale, sickly glow, did little to fend off the inky blackness. Still, they trudged forward. They paused once, and Toph sank her feet into the lake floor, before nodding to Sokka and pointing off to her left. Yue sat, legs fully tucked under herself, hands grasping the edge of the pond, enraptured. 

Eventually, the group came upon a wall, smooth and unnatural. Yue clapped her hands in excitement, Toph raised a hand and laid it flat on the earth wall - the group exploded into commotion. Aang flailed - almost losing control of his share of the shield bending, Sokka punched up in victory, his fist going straight through the ceiling of water, leaving him shrieking and wet. Katara was clearly yelling something at them, the vein on her temple beginning to stand out, and Toph began to bend the lake floor into a similar container like the one they had entered the lake in. Bending sludge into solid earth, she brought up three walls around them and a ceiling over the top of the bubble - all sides connecting the wall in front of them. Katara and Aang pushed the water out of their little room, leaving them standing in an empty, mildly dry space at the bottom of a lake. Yue watched as they steeled themselves, bringing her the edges of her clasped hands to her lips, Yue _grinned_. She had been right, oh so deliciously _right_ about Sokka - and he was _hers._ Yue giggled, as sheer, unbridled glee filled her. Sokka had gone and surpassed even _her_ expectations, and he didn't even know that he was a Chosen yet. Yue swung her legs out from under her, and fell back on the grass, letting her legs fall into the water where she kicked and splashed in excitement and pride. In the last lingering rippling image, Toph peeled down the wall - and down, far below them, was Appa. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

They weren’t exactly wet, just - kind of damp? Uncomfortably moist? Too wet to be dry, but not wet enough to be _wet_. One thing was certain though, they smelt like they were molding, and honestly - Sokka wouldn't have been surprised if he had looked down and seen that he was actually covered in the gross slimy green snot stuff they had been walking through for the past indistinguishable amount of time. He had known that it was going to be dark - they were at the _bottom of a lake_ , if it hadn’t been a terrifying nightmare inducing dark around them, he thinks that would have been worse. Luckily they hadn’t seen or run into any of the lake's residents, and he would be eternally grateful for that. Sokka didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he saw another sea monster. Or any water related monster really. He may be from one of the poles, but he would never be a fan of the things that lurked in bodies of water. They were tasty, and that’s all he wanted to know about them. 

From where they stood, and Sokka would forever be grateful to whoever had taken the glowing crystal, they could see Appa chained to the ground below. Each of his legs manacled, the chains pulling at him, spreading his legs and making it so he could do nothing more than wait - splayed out and terrified. Sokka looked up, and sure enough, the ceiling funneled up and out of sight to where a thin ray of sunlight came down. Victory surged in his chest, he had been _right_. He turned to look at the others, Katara looked as shocked as he felt. Toph’s brows were scrunched, her head cocked as she concentrated on something Sokka couldn’t see or feel. Aang’s eyes - huge and glassy, stared down at Appa, and before Sokka could breathe - Aang flung himself over the edge of their cliff and down to the ground below - landing a few meters away from Appa. Sokka would chastise him later, his plan had worked - they had found Appa - now they just had to get out. 

Toph lowered them down as Aang cut through the chains, as silently as they could. They had made it this far, the last thing that they needed was to make enough noise to be suspicious. They were _so close_ \- Sokka could literally look up and see their freedom. He honestly had no idea how long they had been underground for, but it had been too long. He needed air and sky and sun, the thing inside him had grown restless - squirming against his lungs, curling through his viscera - spreading itself out inside him. He needed _out_. They ran to where Aang was clinging to Appas nose, buried in soft beige fur. 

“All right ok, all aboard the Appa express! Destination Not Here! Lets go, move it people!” Toph clapped her hands together, voice taut. “Reunions will be had _after_ we are camped somewhere very, _very_ , far away!” she rubbed her palms together, and stamped down - launching herself onto Appa’s bare back.

“Seconded. We need to move.” Katara ran to Appa’s tail, pulling Sokka with her. Several things began happening at once; as Sokka climbed up Appa's tail, following Katara, a familiar weightless pull fell over him. The world quieted, Katara and Toph's voices merged and muffled, leaving nothing but noise. At the same time, Sokka felt the slow burn of what they were doing begin to wash over him. The weightless pull strengthened, beckoning him with nothing but the bliss of detachment. Sokka's body stepped further onto Appa's back, without the saddle, Toph had nestled against the top of Appa's hump, burrowing herself within his fur. Sokka watched through a vague, numbing, haze from where he stood on Appa's back as Aang spoke softly to Appa. Some part of him knew what was going to come next - the deep low of App's response, the rush of cold, damp air as Aang spun onto Appa's head, the preparations for his nightmare complete.

The terror nestled deep in Sokka's bones sung through him. 

Time slowed, and the world fell away as Sokka watched the red of Aang's shoulder cloth ripple in the air as it settled against his back. He felt Katara pull him down, heard something come from her that sounded annoyed and anxious that was probably directed at him - but he couldn't hear what she said. Could only feel the coarse-soft animal fur sprouting between his fingers. Could only smell the thick musk of beast that saturated the very air in his lungs. 

_"No,"_ Sokka thought, _"I'm not ready"_ his heart slowed, panic and despair surged through his blood, overwhelming him. _"Nonononono,"_ his heart began to thunder in his chest, as realization crashed through him _"Don't say it, please Aang, don't say it_."

"Appa! Yip Yip!" Aang's voice cut through him, severing him in two. 

And just like that, they were in the air. 

Sokka watched from where he was next to 'his' body, as Appa turned and pointed himself toward the ceiling. 

He hadn’t even had time to think about what was going to happen. A deep part of him knew that Appa meant flying, but he hadn’t _processed_ it. Between the caves and tunnels and spirits and Dai Li - he hadn’t had time to prepare himself for what Appa meant.

But it was too late for that.

They were already in the air, climbing towards the steadily growing shaft of light at the top of the ceiling. 

“Hold tight!” Aang called back to them as Appa picked up speed, aiming towards the light. Sokka turned from where he had been watching himself and saw Katara close her eyes and flatten herself against Appa’s fur, he felt his heart beating too slow, and watched as his body did the same.

He felt Appa smash through the ceiling, felt the rush of air around them - rock fragments slicing and bruising as they plowed through and _up_. Felt as Appa leveled out, felt the last of the sun warm his back, heard Katara and Toph laugh out an odd mixture of relief, exhaustion, and giddy. Heard the air whistle by. Keeping his forehead against Appa’s back, and a pleading, desperate, iron grip on his fur - Sokka passed out. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! 
> 
> i hope you are all doing well! i am ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟdying☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ i had a whole bunch of tests and lab reports due for my both my chem and a&p class so things have been truly insane and my brain hurts ˎ₍•ʚ•₎ˏ so! this post is one of two that i will be doing! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy! and that you and your loved ones are safe and healthy!
> 
> bees
> 
> ahaha, uhhhhh i accidentally uploaded this chapter a little too early (i thought i hit 'save draft' not post- but don't worry! i went back and finished editing it! so now the actual finished piece is up! i hope you enjoy it ⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝ 
> 
> this weekend is the first time in almost two weeks that i don't have more than one test! so there will be lots of writing done ~~ i have so much stuff in my evernote and like six separate google docs just with stuff about this story (i went back and counted and it turns out there are 3 google docs, 19 notes, and 8 evernotes) so! i'm gonna get some wine or something and hole myself up in my goblin chambers and get in some good writing time ヽ(•̀ω•́ )ゝ✧
> 
> that's all i've got for now, i hope you and your loved ones are happy and healthy!
> 
> ♡ bees
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	8. To Err is Human, To Forget is Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> metamorphosis : a change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one, by natural or supernatural means.
> 
> sokka has a talk with yue, appa gets some much deserved love, and the gods are still bored.

### Chapter 8

To Err is Human, To Forget is Divine

Part One

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Katara climbed onto Appa, his coarse fur thick under her fingers. It scratched at the palms of her hands as she struggled into a spot where she could be secure against Appa but also keep an eye on Sokka and Toph. She was sure Toph was fine. Sokka though - Sokka had been fine up until they had gotten closer to Appa. He had _been_ fine when he had started running towards Aang and Appa, but at some point in between then and now - something had changed. Between seeing Appa from above, and running towards him Sokka had shifted into someone else. 

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, not since the alley - _everything_ had changed after the alley. 

The brother she had known was gone. 

He stood there sometimes, and looked like the person she had grown up with - the boy that looked and sounded so _much_ like their mother - but the Sokka now wasn’t that same brother. He was still ambitious - the same level of sharp wit and quick intelligence, but the same restraint wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know how to _stop_. It made Katara nervous - like she had to have one hand on him at all times, otherwise he would disappear. 

Like he would go into another alley, but this time - he wouldn’t come out.

This Sokka was insatiable.

His attention span was next to nonexistent, strangely reminiscent of a few years ago when he was in his early teenage days - when it took all she had to get him to focus on just finishing _one_ task or to just step away from whatever thing he had lost himself inventing that day and actually eat something. That had been when he was, 15? 16? torn between flitting between things like a lost foxbunny or tunneled in his room like a den mother.

It was like he had reverted back to that, his curiosity peaked constantly, the chances of finding him away from their group - tucked away tinkering or thinking somewhere - was more than it was to find him actually _with_ someone. But it wasn’t that he had gotten absent minded - it was the opposite - like there were so many things inside his head that sometimes he had to physically leave the room he had been thinking in. So she tried to keep an eye on him - tried to keep a physical hand on him whenever she could, just small touches here and there; a tap on the shoulder, flick to the forehead, _anything_ to keep him within arms distance. Especially so when they had been in the tunnels, where none of them could see anything - she had desperately clung to his shirt, unabashed - she would do anything to keep even the finest of lines to her brother.

Even more so now. 

Sokka had run towards Appa like something possessed him. His limbs jerking and stamping where they should have been smooth and fast. He ran like a fish gasping for air - _‘not since I fell to my death’_ \- his words burned through her, sharp and cold, sucking the heat from her bones. 

Katara watched as Toph launched herself onto Appa, a mixture of relief, anxiety, and trepidation coursed through her. They had Appa back, their group was whole again - Aang was whole again. Without Appa he had been dazed, unable to focus and impulsive. She hoped that now he would come back to himself. She turned to Sokka, his eyes glassy as the color drained from his face - she wanted to help him, wanted to have any other way of getting out but they _didn’t_. This was all they had. This was the whole reason they had come - Appa was their goal and now they had him, and she would be damned if they weren’t all leaving together. She didn’t understand what was happening to Sokka, he was slipping away to somewhere she couldn’t go - someplace that she couldn’t get him back from. 

They didn’t have _time_ for this, she needed her brother back, they had to leave and he was going to come with. Katara grabbed her brothers hand, and drug him with her up Appa to where Toph was getting situated - without the saddle it would be difficult to do anything. Her pack weighed heavy on her, the straps cut into her shoulders as she hauled herself up to the top of Appa’s hump, Sokka stumbling behind her. She pulled Sokka down from where he was still standing, forcing him down so they could take off. Appa lifted, the earth falling as they pulled away from it, climbing towards the light - the sun shone down from the top of the cell, she took cover, shielding her face from the earth as Appa flew through the ceiling. 

They burst out into open air, bruised and exhausted, but the feeling of air and the warmth of the sun filled her with the first _real_ energy she had felt in days - weeks even. She heard Toph laugh, and lifted her head, her own laughter bubbling and spilling out into the air around them. Katara watched as Toph desperately held onto Appa, her face open in relief, and turned to check on Sokka.

He wasn’t moving.

She could see his knuckle white grip on Appa’s fur, but his face was pressed tight against Appa’s body, his face buried beneath the dirty white fur - but he wasn’t moving, she could barely tell he was breathing. She had expected him to scream - for him to be _doing_ something - anything - but he wasn’t. He was silent, his body frozen.

Appa flew, the ground beneath them changing from blue to green to brown as they hurtled through the sky.

Sokka stayed frozen. 

Katara’s relief vanished, her laughter died inside her - anxiety taking its place. She reached out, grabbing hold of his cold wrist and tried to get his attention. 

“Sokka!” she squeezed his wrist, “Sokka we’re out! Look!” she tried to yell over the wind, he didn’t move. Katara whipped around towards where Aang was sitting, trying to steer Appa without the reins. “Aang! Something’s wrong with Sokka!” she screamed “We have to land!” she tightened her grip on his wrist, panic rose from deep in the pit of her stomach. 

“We can’t!” Aang yelled over his shoulder “We’re still too close, we have to get farther away!” 

She knew he was right. That they had to leave - had to get as far away as possible as fast as possible. Ba Sing Se was dangerous, the Earth Kingdom was hostile and they were _still in it_ . They had to go. They had to leave, to escape, to run as fast as they could and _flee_ _._ Katara knew that, but she also knew that there was something wrong with Sokka.

They had a long way to go until they had even the slightest semblance of safety.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut, and tightened her grip, anchoring herself against him.

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Yue swam lazily around her pond, her white hair billowing out around her, cutting through the reflection of stars in the twilight lit water. Her thoughts turned to Sokka, and the other children he was with - she would have to bring him to her, he deserved a reward for all that he had managed to accomplish so far and for impressing her. Yue grinned and filled with pride, her Chosen was _magnificent_ \- her original expectations were destroyed, and she refused to make new ones, too eager and intrigued to see what Sokka would do next to try and contain it with mere expectations.

The water held her as she floated, buoyant and radiant - the reflection making it as if she were suspended against the stars themselves. She swam leisurely back towards the temple, her long hair swirled behind her, the sounds of the water rippling soothing her as she went. Yue pulled herself out of the water, onto the dark grass, and walked to the bench under the plum blossoms. Her towel hung over the stone, soft feather pink blossoms were scattered and dropped over the fabric. They drifted gently to the grass as Yue brought the towel with her back to the pond, leaving a trail of pale pink behind her. She shook the towel out over the edge of the pond before sitting, pulling up the image of Sokka and the others. 

The moon hung, full and heavy, in the twilight sky. She rolled onto her stomach, bare skin against soft fabric, and dried by moonlight. 

She eyed her clothes, strewn randomly over the railing of entrance to her temple, and stretched - ignoring them, choosing instead to rest her head against her arm and watch Katara hold onto Sokka as Aang tried to help guide Appa to land. She decided it looked chaotic and draining, too exhausting to feel the urge to adventure. They came to a thundering halt, Appa crash landed into a valley - Toph nearly getting ejected as they shuttered to a stop near a river bend. Aang, who _had_ gotten ejected, spluttered as he surfaced from the river, shaking and splashing through the water back to the river bank where Appa had chosen to collapse. Yue watched closely as Katara and Toph carefully manhandled Sokka down Appa’s tail, down onto the ground. 

This concerned her. 

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. 

Yue sat up, this was not what was _allowed_ to happen. Sokka was supposed to be fine - he had _been_ fine when she had left them - if something had happened to him while she hadn’t been watching she would be more than frustrated.

There would be more than anger.

If something had happened to him, she would make sure there would be a reckoning. The ones who had caused his suffering would yield to her, and to the consequences of their actions. Yue leaned closer, trying to see Sokka clearer - nearly falling into the water as she did. Katara laid out a sleeping bag as Toph made a shelter, Aang holding Sokka as they worked. 

Something akin to frustration and annoyance bloomed in her. Emotions had become, _different_ , after she ascended. Things she had felt keenly as a human were now blurring, muddied with the ambivalence of what she had become. 

Yue stood. She turned and marched to her clothes, recalling that humans had a tendency to be sensitive and opinionated on flesh. Even now, as she stood bare, the last remaining human in her burned with embarrassment - despite the fact she was in her own domain, where _she_ was the only way in and out. The part of her that clung to her human origin brought memories of that life forward - splashes of people and rituals, colors and sounds, images of wind burned cheeks and frozen eyelashes. Yue assumed it was to remind herself of the importance and protection that clothing brought. Water tribe peoples had strong attachments to clothing; because of the perils their climate brought, clothing was gifted and cherished - the act of making cloth was considered one of the highest acts of love and respect. Clothes protected from the elements, shielded from cold and armored against teeth. They lived in the most beautiful place, but with it came unparalleled danger. Beauty and death had found a loving home in the soft rolling tundras. Her people lived and thrived with them, embracing them, loving hard and completely. Life at the poles was too uncertain to be bound by the confines of something as frivolous as humanity, nights were long, dark, cold things and beds were meant to be warm, as hearts were meant to be full - death cared not for gender, and neither did her people. 

She was bringing a human to her domain, and thus required the tedious act of clothing. In return for her acts, she would demand answers, and she would receive them. Yue dressed quickly, the light fabric clung to her still damp skin, and returned to her pond. She knelt at the water's edge, and placed her palms gently on the surface. Yue closed her eyes, envisioning who she wanted to come, their image solid and whole in her mind, as the water began to glow a soft pale blue. As she concentrated, the glow stretched out, consuming the whole of the pond. Everything around her radiated the same soft blue, and for an instant, it was electrifying. The pond, gazebo, temple, grounds and grass were swathed in a bright blue-white light, it burned through the lids of her eyes. She pulled, gripping onto her chosen and _yanked._

When she opened her eyes, Sokka was lying on the ground next to her. 

Sprawled between her and the plum tree. 

The blue faded, easing back and dissipating into the water as Yue lifted her hands. She took a moment to center herself, feeling the swell of her lungs press against her chest - as a spirit she didn’t _have_ to breathe, but sometimes habit overtook her reality. Meditation was something she had enjoyed as a human - thinking back to those times made her head hurt now, but the motions still resonated with her. She hadn’t been allowed to do much else when she had been a princess. Her life had revolved around studies - the tribe, the ancient world, trading routes, languages, tradition, history. Her life consisted and evolved within a room, her greatest achievements narrowed down to nothing more than barrels of oil and wicks burned.

It was not a life she remembered fondly. 

Yue was beyond that now. She was grateful for her time as a human, but she was long past fond reminiscing. 

Near her, Sokka jerked against the grass, rolling onto his side in a single, huge, uncoordinated move. It comforted her to know that even here, Sokka was still himself. He coughed, pushing up onto all fours, heaving water onto the grass. Yue stayed, watching as Sokka righted himself, breathing deep as he looked around. 

“What the fuuuAAAGHH!!” he yelped as he finally spotted her, nearly falling over in surprise “Yue!!” she giggled as he scrambled over to her. His mirth spilled over, and into her, filling her with the same warmth he radiated. “Where are we?? Did you bring me here? Is this the spirit world??” Sokka turned, whipping back and forth as he tried to take in his surroundings. “Why am I here? Are you alright? Did something happen?” he rambled as he leaned over her pond, the image of the camp still showing

Yue giggled, “Hello, Sokka.” she watched as his cheeks flushed, “I see you’re well, and yes we are in the spirit world - this is my domain, you are welcome and wanted here.” his flush deepened as she smiled at him, her own frustration ebbing “ I am fine, there is not much that can do more harm than annoy me now, but thank you for asking.” she watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears “We have much to talk about. Shall we walk?” She held her hand out, gesturing towards the gardens, as Sokka jumped to his feet. 

“Maybe we can find an activity to do,” he winked as he held his hand out to her. Yue laughed, and for the first time in a long time, felt grateful at the presence of another. 

“There are many enjoyable things to do here, all you need do is ask.” She accepted his hand, pulling herself up, and watched as Sokka’s face colored once again - rising in time with her as she stood. Humans, she decided, were endlessly entertaining. Yue watched as Sokka flustered, tripping over himself to catch up to her as she walked ahead, along the edge of the pond that led towards the rest of the plum blossom trees. 

“Walking! Walking is a fun activity! And enjoyable!” he chattered, “One of the many enjoyable activities I enjoy doing!” 

“Yes, I am sure you are a master of many.” she turned to look at him, keeping pace “Seeing as how there are no canals to fall into, I think it’s safe to say you are a master at this one.” giggling, Yue watched Sokka flail and redden. 

“That was one time!”

“It was very memorable, one that has stayed with me all this time.” Sokka spluttered as Yue laughed. 

They walked like that, reminiscing, amongst the blossoming trees, past the mirrored sky, trailing a path through flowers. An oasis in the center of a frozen desert. They lapsed into silence as flowers and grass turned to snow, following the strip of pond out onto the tundra. 

“Yue, why did you bring me here?” Sokka whispered, breaking their quiet

“Before I answer, tell me - what do you remember, Sokka, of your old world?” 

“What do you mean ‘old world’ ?”

“Your first world. You could say, your original world - I believe you called it the 'Real World' - what do you remember from before this one, the one you call the 'Dream World' ?”

Sokka paused, words and steps faltering.

“My _real world_ \- my _only_ world -" he stressed, "is where I lived until the day of the comet. Toph, Suki, and I were taking down the air ships. Aang was fighting Ozai. Zuko left to fight Azula for the crown and Katara went with him as backup.” they walked, turning to cross over a small bridge of stones that went through the pond to the other side. Sokka’s gaze focused on the horizon, refusing to look anywhere else as he re-lived his memories, “We watched the sky change, red and blue to only blue to burning. That’s how we knew Aang lost.” his voice quiet, “We fought. We _tried_ to fight.” he stilled once more, leaning his head back - staring into the stars, “We lost. I fell. Toph fell. Suki fell.” his breath hitched, sticking to his lungs. When he spoke next, his voice came out thick, barely more than a whisper “We lost, Yue. I _fell._ ” she could hear his lungs stutter, could practically feel the way his heart shattered, like ice and bone - jagged. “And then I woke up in Ba Sing Se. Where everything was _wrong_ and I was _wrong_ and everything hurt but it shouldn’t have hurt because I _died_ .” words fell out of him, rushing and swarming - the damn he hadn’t known was there broke, “I hurt _so much_ but it shouldn’t have hurt - because I’m _dead._ I _fell off an airship_ \- that’s not survivable!” he paced tundra to pond, blossoms to snow, “But then I woke up - and everything was _wrong_ .” his hands flew around, gesturing and pulling at his hair, “ I have a scar on my face!!” he stopped, turning to face Yue, pointing wildly at his face, “Look at me! I’m _huge!"_ he used both hands to emphasize, “I was never this tall! I have scars _everywhere_ but I never _did_ anything to get them - I have to shave every morning or I practically have a beard by the end of the day!” Sokka’s arms flew out, his voice high, ragged and frantic, eyes wide and glassy, “Everything is _wrong and I don’t understand what’s happening.”_ he turned to her, looking into her eyes, a deep, endless blue - “What happened Yue, why am I here, _what am I?”_

“I chose you.” 

Sokka stilled, air leaving his lungs in one final, quiet, escape 

"What," he breathed out, his chest aching, "what did you say," the words fell out of him like dead leaves, swirling softly to the cold ground beneath him

“You are my Chosen.” she took a step closer to where he had frozen near a bush of blush pink peonies, “You fell.” her wide, dark eyes locked to his, “You and Toph fell,” their death slipped out of her mouth, simple brutal in their honesty - “You were going to die, but I have chosen you.” She stepped closer still, white eyebrows pulling down, her voice hardened, “As such, you will not die until it is allowed.” As if it were as obvious as the waves, lapping at the shore - “You have untold potential Sokka. I will not let you perish as a mere _human_ when there is so much _else_ that you can be doing."

The implication chilled Sokka to his core, as if he was suddenly filled with the black water of the deep. 

"What does that **_mean_ ** Yue?" Sokka could feel his heart starting to beat faster, his body felt bloated and frozen, thrumming with something he couldn’t make sense of. The thing in him squirreled at his bones.

“That I saved you. That I have brought you somewhere for you to live and to live at your fullest potential. This world will be perfect for your growth." She nodded to herself, a small smile pulling at her lips, her voice dropping, “I care for you as only I can.” she murmured, low and soft, “ I have given you a gift other spirits have fought milenia for. That humans barely dream of. Protection, strength, wisdom, power - “ Yue paused, coming to stand in front of where Sokka stood, statued, on the border of the grass “You are mine, Sokka.”

She reached out, cradling his cheek with her hand, “I am Yue. Spirit of the Moon. Mother of the Tides and the Hunt. Healer and Giver of Wisdom. Goddess of Water and the Shore.”

Her thumb ran across his cheek, whipping away a tear he hadn’t felt fall, “And you are my Chosen.” 

The cold of her hand faded, her silver white hair blurred at the edges of his vision as he began to cry freely, 

“Sokka, of my Southern Tribe, first born son of chieftain Hokoda and huntress Kaiya. Bearer of Anu’s Touch, I have chosen you to become one of my Spirits.” 

The thing inside him spasmed and thrashed, coating his insides like thick paint, drowning him from the inside. 

“Your first death has proven your talent and drive. Your first life has surpassed the likes of those around you, your potential unheard of - far surpassing anything recorded, it is beyond limitless. I grant you this second life, to use and become _more_. You are no longer confined to the limits of age, seek your potential and go beyond it. Do not disappoint me.”

Sokka leaned into her touch, a small keen of pain escaped him as the thing in him grew - stretching and pushing at his organs, his bones creaked as it swelled

“The others and I are very excited about you, but you are mine. Do not forget this. And as such, I will be the first to welcome you.”

It hummed, resonating and pulsing at Yue’s touch. Sokka felt it shift, absorbing and merging itself with him, searing him in its dark cold. 

“Sokka, Spirit of Intuition and Invention, Blessed of the Hunt and Healer. Chosen.”

The thing inside him burst.

The last of his humanity forced out, seeping out from deep within him, Sokka fell to his knees.

Yue cradled his face, her hands cool on his wet skin.

He looked into her eyes - more than blue, they were deep, a color not allowed to humans - brimming with unfathomable power - the void of the ocean gazed back.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his forehead. 

“Welcome, my Spirit, to your new world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ෆ`꒳´ෆ) ˡºᵛᵉ❤
> 
> hey uhhhh did y'all know y'all're rad as hell? 
> 
> cuz it's truthest truth to have ever been truthed
> 
> fun fact about this two part chapter! ~~ no one dies or is (physically) hurt! 
> 
> this chapter is a Big Boi - a heckin honker, an ultimate goose. kaiju beeb. ok not really, that's a lie, i just thought that it ~felt~ nicer in two parts rather than one? that's my honest and only answer（〃￣∇￣）(ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)?
> 
> anyways, thank you for all your comments! it makes me like, really grossly snotty over emotional, and i genuinely can't thank you all enough ˎ₍•ʚ•₎ˏ ♡
> 
> i hope you enjoy!
> 
> ♡ bees
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


	9. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are had. The only thing left for any of them to do is move forward. Despite the cost.

Part Two

To Err is Human, To forget is Divine

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

She had left him there. 

Kneeling in the dark grass. Head tilted towards a woebegotten sky. 

He stayed like that, numb to the border of grass and snow beneath him. Entirely fixated on the feeling inside of himself, an unplaceable emptiness - everything that had filled him before had simply dissolved when Yue kissed him. His reality had shifted to such a degree that as he sat there, cheeks wet, he wasn’t sure he could say who he was. His grounding factor had vanished, but at the same time - his ability to release himself, to fully dissociate and drift away, was now so secure that he had never felt himself so intimately. He was at once more himself than ever before, and more lost than he could cope with. He felt impossibly heavy and ghostly light at the same time, as if his body and mind were battling to grasp his new being and gain control of the situation - starving and bloated full, his new reality an impossible thing. 

Acceptance wouldn’t come, he doubted it ever would. 

But answers would. 

As he stared up, eyes unseeing - as a primal clarity washed over him. 

The new being stood, shaky on its infant limbs, and stepped out towards answers. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Yue waited for Sokka to come to her. 

She had work that needed to be done; tides to guide, prayers to yield, lesser spirits to direct, greater spirits to meet with, she was busy. Sokka would come when he would. Until then, she would work. Yue needed answers just as much as she presumed he did, so he would come. 

Yue looked up from where she sat at her desk in the temple, in time to see a huge cloud of spirit fish swim and undulate through the sky. Translucent, they radiated a soft glow, shimmering through colors as they swirled against the permanently twilight sky. The mirror surface of her pond showed Aang, Katara, and Toph all curled and sleeping on top of Sokka’s body. The man himself stood, pale and shaking, at the base of the steps leading up to her temple. She stayed sitting, the great open wall of her temple framing her at her desk. Sokka struggled up to her, his new body nearly heaving by the time he reached the top. 

“Tell me.” he panted out, too stubborn to collapse 

“Tell you what.” she turned the page of a letter she had received from one of her closer Spirits, bemused at their findings 

“Everything.” Sokka held his ground as exhaustion ripped through him. His new body screaming from the small exertion of walking. 

“No.” Sokka spluttered, moving to her, “Not until you tell me what I want to know first.” she put down her brush, resting the bristles on a soft wooden stand. “Tell me, Sokka. Why is your body in that state?” Yue pointed down to the pond, where the group slept. 

“What do you mean? Why did I pass out? Why was I so terrified of flying that I had a panic attack so intense that I couldn’t keep myself conscious?” anger flared within him “I don’t know Yue. Let’s think about that for a second.” he paced across the wooden floor, body aching, striding against the backdrop of the garden and arctic in long angry steps “What could have possibly happened that could make me scared of heights? Hmmm...maybe it was _falling off an airship to my death.”_

Yue looked at him. Deep blue staring at him in a strange combination of frustration, annoyance, and confusion - “That was your past life though.” her head turned to the side, “That life is over.” she held her hand out, flicking it across the table “Move on.” Sokka stared at her, mouth parted. The shell of what had once been beautiful, kind, empathetic Yue - stared back. 

“It’s not that _simple._ Yue. I can’t just _do_ that.” 

“Why not?” Yue pulled her hands together into her long sleeves, the sheer gossamer fabric coating her arms in a pale, icy blue. “This is your life now. You are not who, nor what, you were in that life.” Her annoyance rang clear in her voice, “I have brought you here, and have created something that has not been seen in many millenia. If ever. You are something entirely new, I have chosen and created you. Do not let something dead keep you from your life.” she stared at him, holding his gaze, “Move on, Sokka. It is time.” 

“Why?” Sokka walked back to where Yue sat at her desk, from where he had stopped pacing at the edge of the open wall. His limbs slow, unresponsive in his stupor. 

“Be more specific.”

“Why me? Why this? Why, Yue?” he stopped in front of her low desk, standing just in front of her, blocking her view of the pond and her oasis. 

“You because I liked you. This world because the body was closest and has ideal circumstances for your growth.” she shrugged, gossamer and silk sliding against skin, “Convenience.”

“The body? You liked me?”

“Yes. The body. Yes, I liked you. You are smart and funny. Exceedingly charming and quick witted. You have talent Sokka, talent and _potential._ I have taken a vested interest in you and your future - and you will do great things.”

“What about _him_ though? What happened to him - whose body is this Yue?” Sokka looked down to the unfamiliar hands, too large, too scared, to be his. He opened and closed them, feeling the skin move, the muscles beneath tense. He brought one up to his chest, feeling the rough cloth, he rubbed at his chest - the familiar feeling of _home_ , _ice, blue._ Sokka bent forward slightly, and clenched his fist closed around the fabric, trying to press it into him. 

“It is yours. Both now and then. The spirit in that body left and I put your spirit in it. Think of it like this, the body is a cup, your original body fell to the ground and broke beyond repair - can a shattered cup hold anything? No. It cannot. This cup was whole - though there are a few cracks, but whole nonetheless. I held you from your shattered cup as one would hold water in their bare hands. I poured what was left of you into this new cup.”

“What was left of me?” Sokka felt like he was standing on the brink of something - like he was stranded, on top of a high ice cliff with a storm thundering too close to escape from, with no shelter in sight. 

“Yes. What was left. I could not hold all of you Sokka, but I held nearly all.”

“What happened to him?” from far away on his cliff, Sokka knew the answer before Yue said it. 

“He has moved on. He is with your loved ones and your ancestors. All spirits of humans meet in the end, I just guided him to yours first. He will meet his ancestors eventually, the afterlife is a vast, endless place. Everyone will meet everyone, spirits are not constrained to one simple world, and there are many layers and realms here.”

Sokka remained silent.Yue returned to her paperwork. 

“Would you like to see his memories? You have not stolen this life, Sokka. Merely filled an empty cup.”

She continued to write, her brush gliding across parchment as she referenced what looked like a report. 

Sokka looked over Yue’s shoulder, to the garden behind her where the huge, fat, moon hung heavily in the sky. The branches of low bushes and small trees crept along the bottom of the moon, pale ethereal white cut through the serene of the courtyard; Sokka looked, but did not see. 

His life pulled by the whim of beings he couldn’t stand, and now he was one. He didn't know what that meant, or what that entailed - couldn’t accept what Yue had said. He was _human_ . How did a human become a spirit? What did being a spirit _mean??_

“Yue,” 

“Mmm” 

“You said I was the spirit of intuition and invention, blessed of the hunt and healer - what does that mean?” he watched the stars behind the moon, the ocean of dark sky shimmering and rolling “Can I, ya know ~ _do ~_ things now?”

“I don’t understand what you mean by ‘do things’, but if you are talking about what your powers are, then yes - you have several. Did you want the memories of the body or not? I still have many questions for you, and I do not want to have you stop me every question with something frivolous.”

“What the hell Yue. You can’t just do all _this -_ ” he waved his arms, trying to gesture at everything that he was in and everything that had happened “and not expect me to have _questions._ ” exhaustion bled through him, Sokka closed his eyes and tilted his head back - succumbing to the storm, falling with the broken ice to the depths below “Yes, Yue. I want the memories. I can’t _live_ in his body and not know his life. Yes, I want to know what you mean by powers. Yes, I want to know about this world you dropped me in. Yes, Yue. I want to _know._ ”

“Excellent. Lets begin.” Yue set her brush down and clapped her hands, startling him - Sokka’s eyes flew open at the noise. Yue stood, her pale dress glinting in the glow of the moon, and tugged him along with her into the small courtyard behind her. His body began to feel more tangible as he stepped down onto the gravel pathway, each step more solid than the last. Yue pulled Sokka to the center of the garden, past small trees and thick bushes to a perfectly circular and unfathomably deep pool - the entirety of the moon reflected exactly back on the surface. 

“Off and in.” Yue dropped Sokka’s hand and gestured to the pool.

“Excuse me?” taken aback, Sokka froze 

“Clothes off. Get in.” 

“All of them?” Sokka could hear what Yue was saying, and understood the words she said - but when he put them together along with the unfolding situation it was like his brain short circuited and his mind failed him. 

“Yes. Quickly now, I don’t know how long this will take, and even though time here doesn’t move the same as the humans, it still moves.” 

“Uhhh, seriously?” Yue glared at him, refusing his question.

“Okok, don’t get mad!” Sokka flushed, “Uhhm, can you turn around? Please?”

“If it will make you work faster, then yes.” Yue turned, annoyance clear in her motions. Sokka stripped, folding his clothes onto a flat rock near the water.

“Even underwear?” 

“Yes, Sokka.” Even with her back to him, Sokka could practically feel Yue pinch the bridge of her nose, “To stimulate the emergence of your powers forcefully, you need as much contact with the spirit water as possible.” Yue kept her back to him as he folded his trunks and hid them between his outer layers. Sokka sat on the smooth ledge of the pool, the cool glare of the moon rippled as he slid into the tepid water. Hearing the sloshing, Yue turned and walked to where Sokka hung on the ledge - arms folded, hair slicked back from the water, the rest of him reflecting a new crater on the reflection. 

“Now what?” A deep, tingling, burn began to fill him. Sinking in from his skin, his veins filled with ice, Sokka was lit aflame. He looked up to where Yue knelt above him, reaching her hands down to the water, her eyes closed in concentration.

“Lie on your back. Close your eyes and focus on your body. Hold still. Be quiet. And let me do my work.” 

The burn spread, climbing up from inside his stomach to the tip of his tongue. Burning his fingers, crawling down his spine, consuming him wholly. Heat-light-liquid-ice-fire-pain-hot Sokka was blinded by the barrage of sensation. He closed his eyes and focused on the cold-scathe, sinking below the surface, he on feeling the agonizing creep of nonexistent flame, the glow of the moon incinerating him. He broke the surface, wanting to scream - his mouth and body locked tight, rigid in pain. Sokka panted, his body white hot - bordering on unbearable, until he felt it. The feeling of thick paint inside him dissolved in the heat, the wrongness of his empty body torched. 

For a brief moment, Sokka existed in a pure blazing white flame.Engulfed, consumed entirely by the deepest depths of the freezing, scathing inferno. The flames ebbed, smoldering in place of blazing, before settling into him. 

As his body cooled, his mind began to wander, stretching out into memories he didn’t have. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

He was young, still small from the way his father towered above him. He was scooped up suddenly, the ground fell away as he was tossed into the air, he turned, just in time for his mother to catch him as he squealed and giggled at the exhilaration. His heart swelled, full of love and misery at the sight of his mother. Her voice, the voice he thought he had forgotten, rang clear like bells as she laughed with him. He wanted to cling to her, would give anything to turn back time to make it real again. To have his family, small but whole, back again. 

He blinked, and the world grew smaller. 

His father no longer towering, still large, still imposing - but now a man rather than an impossible figure. They were out on the ice, hunting - his spear heavy in his young hand. Excitement, trepidation, anxiety - the familiar desire to prove himself to his father nearly suffocated him in its intensity. Sokka watched from his stake out point as his father, his hero, ducked low to talk to the other men, no doubt discussing the best way to hunt the herd of snow caribou that were resting on the other side of the ice ridge. Sokka looked down at his body, guessing by feel that he must be around 13, before taking one last look at the group of hunters and turning back to watch the herd. 

The next thing he knew he was in the air, his face burning and wet. Below him he watched in horror as a huge adult polar leopard tore through the ice he had been lying on, rampaging down to the snow caribou below. The men, equally stunned, watched as he flew in slow motion through the air, bucked up by the branching antler-like horns of the predator. _‘Ah, this is how you got that scar.’ he thought._ He landed, crashing against the ice, rolling and sliding down the hill through the snow and into the carnage wrought by the raging beast. Spear still in hand, Sokka attempted to defend himself as the panicked herd trampled everything around him. Muscle memory forced him to squat, stanced against the stampede - Sokka tried to dodge as one of the caribou lost its footing on the ice and fell, skidding and slamming into him. The polar leopard roared, charging through the other animals to where he and the caribou were struggling to regain their footing. 

It lunged, horns first, into the caribou.

Pinning it against the wall of the hill, Sokka trapped between them and the snow. The caribou lurched, struggling as the horns pierced through its body and into Sokka’s thigh. Sokka and the beast screamed. The leopard roared as it pulled back, the horns making a sucking noise as they pulled out through flesh and bone. Sokka clung to his spear as he gasped for breath, the wet heat from his bleeding thigh spread down his leg and through his pant leg, his face burned as the copper smell of blood suffocated him. The caribou struggled weakly, the ice and snow blooming crimson and soft pink around them - the leopard shook itself, preparing for its final attack, splattering their blood against the white-blue of its fur. The polar leopard pounced, Sokka pulled at his spear with his one good arm, the caribou shuttered and let out crying scream. In an instant time seemed to flow again; Sokka watched as he dropped his spear against the back of the caribou, propping it under his armpit and held it low. He watched as clean bone and wood disappeared into white fur and pink flesh. The polar leopard struggled at the end of his spear, howling and clawing at him from where it tried to sink further on to the impaled weapon, anything to take Sokka with it to the afterlife. Sokka watched as red bloomed from its chest, as he finally heard the other tribesmen running and yelling at him from somewhere behind the leopard. From where he was buried beneath the caribou, and now the leopard, Sokka could hear people yelling but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

The voices got louder and suddenly Hakoda was there - skidding and slamming into the pile, frantically trying to lift and pull the animals off of Sokka, Bato and the others close behind. From where he was trapped, Sokka felt himself try to smile - the skin on his face burned and tugged oddly as the wet feeling soaked through the fur of his hood. He let go of his spear, his other arm still trapped under the body of the caribou, and reached up to his face. His blue mittened hand pulled back dark purple, Sokka blinked in surprise, and turned to look at Hakoda - trying to tell him that his leg felt wet too, that the leopard had pinned them down, that he might be bleeding too - but the words didn’t come. He blinked again, slower this time as exhaustion swept through him in place of adrenaline. 

Memories played through him. Visions of the other Sokka’s life filling his head; he watched this Katara grow up, watched the men leave and the few return from war, watched his mother die from sickness rather than murder, watched Aang come into their lives, watched them try to adventure to the north pole once again - watched Zhao do everything he could to stop them.

Sokka watched the brutality of this world form, where the wounds of the Fire Nation in his world had been shallow but wide - the wounds of this world were small but deep and festering. 

The pain of his new and old scars slowly turned into one. His body ached of war - of pain and loss. He was tired, exhausted to his core - and the death he had sought for rest was now something unattainable. His life had ended, young and fruitless. His dreams of a world where his sister could live freely and his tribe prosper were over. Those dreams had died with him. A small voice whispered to him that it wasn’t over now, that _here_ they had a chance, that he could start over and that this time it would _work_ . That he would do anything, _anything,_ to make it that vision real. He wanted to believe, he did, but now he knew different. He had died for that dream. Yue had told him not to let the dead govern his life, and he was too tired, too traumatized - to try again for a dead dream. 

Sokka felt the water around him, the cool of the water soothing his burned body, and opened his eyes. 

White blinded him. 

The swollen body of the moon was seemingly suspended directly above him, the rest of the sky obscured by its mass. He breathed, deep and full, overcome with emotion as he thought of his life - now intermingled with memories of a life he didn’t know. One that he would come to know, now that he had the obligation of it. Part of him hated it, burned with loathing for the life that had been thrust upon him. Sokka couldn’t explain it - his hatred and despair and jealousy at the life he felt he had stolen. Hatred for forcing him to live beyond himself, to live a new existence. Despair at the loss of himself and his loved ones. Jealousy at the Sokka he had taken over, at how _this_ Sokka had been a better son, a better brother, a better warrior. This Sokka had gotten to live longer, had gotten to experience hunting with his father and his tribesmen, had gotten to be with his mother when she died. This Sokka had figured out where Appa was being held, was tougher and fiercer, than he was. Than he had ever been. 

Sokka seethed, heartbroken and yearning for something he couldn’t describe. 

He glared up at the moon, and silently wept. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

By the time Yue opened her eyes and pulled her hands from the water, Sokka felt more at ease with himself. His rage had been exhausted, and had settled into a pseudo-acceptance state of depression and guilt. Sokka didn’t accept his new status as a ‘spirit’, but he couldn’t deny it either. His body was different, he felt less _physical_ , something deep inside him had been burned away - and with the way his body felt different but _better_ \- he wasn’t sure if he was as upset as he probably should have been. His body felt lighter, moved easier - the pain in his joints, the pull of his broken scars, the dull ache of his bones had all but vanished. The thin, silvery scars that ran across his knuckles like spiderwebs flexed with his hands, but the pain he associated with it was gone. 

“What do you feel?” Yue sat at the edge of the pool, her feet kicking gently beneath the surface. 

“Different.” Sokka rolled from where he lay floating on his back, so that he was vertical in the water, “Better, but different.” he spoke while slowly, methodically, treading water, “It felt like I was being burned to death. I thought I was going to die” he lifted his head out of the water and turned towards where Yue was watching him.

“This is the purest you will ever be. From here on, as a spirit, you will train and cultivate your spirits potential. I will teach and train you. I had hoped that La would train you as well, but they are busy with the other ones.” As she spoke, Yue leaned back on her hands and lifted her face to the moon. “I was the same way. When I first came here, it was La who did this to me. It purifies you. There is no human left in us anymore Sokka. We can never go back.” her voice softened, “We can never go to where our loved ones go. But we will forever protect the world they loved.” Sokka watched as Yue spoke, the woman he once knew coming to the surface, the Spirit of the Moon retreating - sinking under the surface for a moment to allow Yue a semblance of peace to mourn her human life. Sokka stopped treading water, sinking beneath the surface to allow himself and Yue a brief moment alone. He stayed under long enough for his lungs to begin to burn, before kicking back to the surface, resolved.

“What does it mean to be the spirit of intuition and invention?” he broke the surface far enough to raise his mouth out of the water, before sinking back into the water, leaving only his nose and eyes above the surface. 

“That you are capable of building anything you imagine, of learning anything you seek, and are gifted in both premonition and prediction. Your greatest power, however, is your ability to grow.” Yue sunned herself in the moonlight, “Other spirits have limited growth. They are able to manipulate their powers to the best of their ability, but that is only to a certain degree.” she eyed him, “You, do not have such restraints.”

Sokka nodded, leaning back to float rather than tread, mind racing. 

“Can I get out now?”

“The longer you stay in, the more capable you will be when you get out.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“That the longer you stay in, essentially, the more powerful you will be. Or that you will be able to absorb and more easily create power once you get out.”

“Huh. How do I ‘absorb power’?” he paddled himself in a circle, “You said that I would ‘cultivate power’, what ‘power’ am I ‘cultivating’ and what do I have to go through for ‘cultivating’?” 

“It is essentially a form of meditation, one that is much easier and much more fulfilling here in the spirit world. Only Spirits such as I, the other Great Spirits, or their Chosen can truly cultivate power. We hold influence in the human world, and as such, the more we cultivate our strength the easier it is to wield that power. The easier it is to wield power, the easier it is to answer prayers, which in turn helps humans believe in the spirits, which gives us more power.” Yue leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs, she tucked a piece of long white-silver hair behind her ear and continued. “We give and we take, cultivating ourselves and strengthening our powers helps us to remain in a state of consciousness, if we relax and allow ourselves to be one with our power, then we risk the chance of losing ourselves to the sheer overwhelming immensity of that power. It is a fine line between wielding our power and becoming it. If we lose ourselves, we lose our reason and our thoughts, and become more powerful than anything before, but we lose ourselves and our minds to that power. If you wish to remain who you are and all that you remember, you would do well to stay in that pool and cultivate yourself to a point where you feel that others will be safe around you.” Yue brought her legs out of the water, turning to lie on her side, one hand idly tracing shapes in the surface of the water. 

“So cultivating means keeping sane, but also makes us more powerful - which can make us go insane.” 

“Yes. It is a fine, and difficult line.”

“But I don’t even have a physical power, “ Sokka scrunched his nose, taken aback and confused by Yues’ explanation, “I can’t bend or affect the elements or anything like that, what ‘power’ am I ‘cultivating’?” 

“Can you not feel it?” Yue watched him, mild amusement crossing her features “You said it burned, yes? Focus on where you felt it burn, what does it feel like now?”

“Less heat, more simmer. Like something inside me is sloshing around.” the feeling of heat-liquid-light churned in him

“Good. Stay with that, gather and hold that feeling within you. Did you ever mediate with Aang?”

“A few times, I couldn’t ever get the hang of it. There were too many things that I needed to do to sit down in one place and not do anything.” 

“There is time here. Spirit time moves much, much slower than human time. One full day here is the same as an hour passing in the human world. We have plenty of time to train.” 

And so they did. 

Yue guided and instructed Sokka, teaching him about meditation and the importance of what he was and what he meant to the human world now. He was the embodiment of invention, of progress, his goal as a spirit was to guide humans to their future. To help them bring about change and progress. To expand their horizons beyond what they thought imaginable. He was meant to encourage creativity and thinking in the world. Being blessed by the Hunt and the Healing meant he was capable of growing himself as a warrior and was adept at the healing arts. Though Sokka still couldn’t bend, he was capable of using his own personal power to aid in healing, much in the same way that his blessing of the Hunt meant that he was exceedingly, supernaturally, strong and agile. A combination of hunter and warrior, his father would be proud. 

Over the course of the night, almost two full weeks for Sokka, Yue trained him into the ground, so that by the time they watched Katara, Toph, and Aang begin to wake up, Sokka had an inclining of a grasp on his new being. 

His rage had subsided while he trained, mixing with his guilt and shame, until they merged and coursed through him as easily as he breathed. His body was bigger, older, and more scared than he was still used to, but it was his now. Its original inhabitant resting beyond either of their reach. Yue had told him when he had broken down during one of their meditative reflections, that they could no longer go to their families. That their existence was not one that got such a blessing. They traded their afterlife with loved ones and tribes members for an existence beyond that of humans. Stronger, more powerful, a friend of Death rather than a guest. Yue had told him that eventually, when he was strong enough, that he would stop aging altogether. That when he got strong enough, he could change his appearance at will. He didn’t believe her until she changed in front of him. Shifting out of her older self, into a young child before her human skin melted away and she became a true spirit. She showed him, full and overwhelming, her true existence. Her being had spread out, fathomless in its depth, impossibly cold - eyeless, headless, and limbless. She shifted once more, to the outline of her human form, her thin, delicate dress floated around her in a haze. 

“We cannot go with them, but we will always love them.” she had floated above him, like she had in the North, “Ours is a cursed existence. Blessed with power and a love of the human world, but cursed to never be part of it. Spirits are born from humans, and as such, we can not be with them.” he had hated her then. Loathed her, cursed her for his existence - for not letting him go when she should have. But loved her all the same. Loved her for the woman she had been, loved her for teaching him, for saving him - but he would never be in love with her like he had been before. 

Too many things had happened.

Sokka wasn’t sure if he would ever feel that way again. 

His life had been ripped away from him, the human burned out, before he was drowned in something entirely _else_. For now, he was numb. The thrum of anger and guilt moved his body, but he felt nothing. He trained until he couldn’t or until Yue made him stop, rested, and then continued training. The day of his departure (the morning the rest of his Gaang woke) Sokka waited and meditated at the Viewing Pond. Yue was in her temple coordinating her affairs, dealing with whatever it was she dealt with, Sokka hadn’t paid attention to that part. He didn’t really care enough to listen to whatever it was she did with the tides and the currents or how she had to coordinate with the river spirits and other lesser water spirits or whatever it was that marine animals supposedly prayed about. Well no, he was curious about that - but he didn’t want her to know that. Sokka watched the sun break in the pond, subtly lighting the camp. He waited until everyone was awake, until Katara got up to start making breakfast, before he called out to Yue. 

“You remember how to come back and how to call me, yes?”

“Meditate and mediate but ‘call out for you’ or ask Aang for help.”

“Correct.” Yue smiled, small and real “What else?”

“If I tell anyone about being Chosen or my ‘powers’ that you’ll summon me back here forcefully and that I’ll suffer the Great’s wrath.” Sokka held out a finger, checking it “But that it’s ok to tell Katara and the others that I’m not the Sokka they knew before.” he checked a second finger, “That I should only use my ‘powers’ in worst case scenarios or if it's absolutely unavoidable, and that if I ever stop doing daily mediation slash cultivation that you’ll forcefully summon me back here and make me do paperwork.” Sokka shuddered, checking off his last two fingers of his list. 

“Correct.” Yue stepped closer to him, “I know we have not had long, but you are doing well, Sokka.” She helped guide him into the water of the pond. 

“Go to Iroh. He is wise and Agni is near him. I fear that things have been too quiet for too long. It would be best for you to learn and grow quickly. Iroh is a talented and gifted teacher.” 

She knelt at the water's edge, where Sokka held onto the stone and leaned in closer to him, “I wish there was more I could do for you, but from here it will be you learning about and strengthening yourself - and that I can not do.” Yue whispered her final words into Sokka’s ear, her cold lips brushing against his skin. Her soft words rang with a quiet resolution. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, Sokka let go of the edge, sinking down into the depths of the glowing water. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka came back to himself lying on the ground, the grey of Toph’s solid rock shelter hovered above him. He stayed there, taking his surroundings in; the soft clatter of Katara preparing breakfast, Aang's soft chatter to her, Toph’s not so quiet snores near him, the clearing filled with the shy sounds of his little family starting their day.

Sokka hated it and loved it all at once. Hated that he missed it, that it wasn’t really his to have - that this family belonged to another and that he had taken it, _stolen_ it, from them. No matter what Yue had said about ‘broken cups’ and ‘past lives’ or ‘the dead stay dead’, Sokka felt that he wouldn’t ever feel that this life was his to have. His family and loved ones were long gone, as he should be, but instead he was lying on the grass on the edge of camp with someone else's baby sister cooking breakfast.

Sokka closed his eyes, squeezing them shut from the sting. He knew he had to talk to them, Katara especially - but the more he imagined it, the more he couldn’t. He knew this body now, knew the life that it had up until he stole it away - he knew that the others wouldn’t know what to do with him anymore.

Sokka had talked with Yue about it, how to tell the others who he was and what had happened. She had been against it at first, had said that it was dangerous and ignorant - that if he wanted to save _this_ world then he needed their trust, and if he told them the truth they would never look at him the same again. It had been a long, painful, conversation. In the end, Yue had to convince Sokka that telling them was the right thing to do. They had each found the other's argument better than their own, Sokka realizing the truth in Yue’s words and Yue seeing the necessity in Sokkas. 

He had to tell them. 

And they would never forgive him. 

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. They had a right to know. They _deserved_ to know. This was a life he stole, and he needed to bear the consequences. 

Sokka took a deep breath, and held it. Felt the rise of his chest, the pull of his skin as his ribs expanded, felt his heart tick in his ears as his chest started to burn. He breathed out, slow and quiet, controlled. His mind made, Sokka sat up, heaving himself on to all fours before pushing up to stand. His limbs felt _loose_ , disconnected in a way that mimicked the feeling after a good stretch. He knew better now though. Sokka shook and stretched, digging inside himself to find his strength - the unfamiliar sensation of his powers flooding him, heat-light-liquid burned through him, stinging and pulsing against his human body like blood rushing back into a sleeping limb. He took a breath and steadied himself against the rock ceiling, and walked on shaky legs to the stone entrance. Sokka ducked on his way out to avoid hitting his head, and immediately shielded his eyes from the glare of dawn. He made his way to where Katara sat, hunched over a scroll, idly bending whatever was in the pot above the campfire. 

“I’ve decided to fight the sun.” Sokka dropped his shielding hand, and propped both hands on his hips, nodding as if what he had said was the most logical thing in the world.

“It’s too bright. And that’s rude. And illegal.” he nodded again. Katara stared at him. A flurry of emotions crossed her face; bewilderment, confusion, surprise, annoyance - before finally settling on anger.

“Sokka!” She stood, scroll in hand, and marched to him. 

“Hey! Hey hey hey, wooooh there Katara - why do you look mad?” Sokka brought his hands up and backed up,

“Why am I mad???! What happened back there?? Are you ok??? We got Appa and then you passed out _while we were flying!!_ What the FUCK Sokka??” She jabbed her finger into his chest with each word, he was glad she didn’t have long nails like Azula had had. When Katara swore - that meant things were _bad._ His plans to slowly and meanderingly wander into the Conversation crumbled and died. 

“I…” the words stuck in him, glued to the walls of his throat. He wasn’t ok. He wasn’t fine. He couldn’t answer her questions without telling her the truth. Part of him (most of him) had hoped that they wouldn’t actually ever need to have this conversation, that he could pretend to be theirs for as long as they lived and then after they died he would just go somewhere and try to fade away. Another part of him hoped that if he went away for long enough he could find a way to die.

But those were lies.

He knew they were lies.

Still, he had hoped that this conversation would have come up much, much later. He held his baby sister, no not his - he held Other Sokka’s baby sister at arm's length, his hands bracing her shoulders as the fury drained from her, anxiety taking its place in the quiet.

“We need to talk.” 

Barely breathing, he led her away from the camp, into the tree line towards the river. Sokka assumed that Aang was meditating somewhere nearby, or doing whatever it was that airbenders or avatars do that early in the morning.

Sokka led her down the river, walking slowly, as Yue had done with him. 

“I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to hear it.” He couldn’t look at her, he knew she must be staring at him, blue eyes concerned and sharp.

“You're making me nervous Sokka. What’s going on?”

He wanted to laugh, the absurdity of it all was too much. 

“I’m going to tell you, but you have to promise me that you won’t ask me anything until the end. I know I should wait until everyone’s awake and at camp, but -“ he breathed, and turned to look at her, “you deserve to be told in peace.” Blue eyes met his, the same blue that his sister had had, and let out a shaky breath.

“Ok..” she held his gaze, and stepped forward to continue their way down the river. Sokka let her walk a few steps ahead of him, stealing himself for the words he had to say next. 

“Ozai won.” he ground out, heart racing in his chest, choosing to look at the water as Katara whirled around to face him.

“What?? Sokka that’s impossible he -“

“Katara, please.” he whispered, the courage he had gathered begun to dissipate “You promised.” 

“sorry.”

“Ozai won." the words stuck in him like sap, pulling parts of himself out with each word. "

"The airship went down. Toph and I fell. Suki and Aang went down fighting. You and Zuko fought against Azula, but you all lost." Sokka could feel her staring at him, could feel himself breaking and chipping apart like kindling.

"Azula tried to shoot you with lightning but Zuko jumped and saved you. Then you took down Azula at the same time she took you down.” He tried to breathe, but the words wouldn’t let him.

“I fell. Toph fell. From _so high._ We were so, so high.” He looked up at the sky and let out a wet, manic laugh. “ I could see _everything._ The world is _so big_ Katara, everything looked like little patches of color - I couldn’t even see the trees until we got close enough! From where we started it was just _green_.” His hands gestured wildly, trying to emphasize something that he couldn’t get across with words, “and then the green became trees. And I closed my eyes,” he stopped walking, and closed his eyes “and I held Toph close,” he could see her again, her small pale green against the hugely vast green-brown of the world. Sokka followed his memory as it played out behind his closed eyes, and reached out to Toph - pulling her close, trying to shield her from the cold, bitter wind as they fell. Katara watched as Sokka curled around himself, holding his arms tight, “and then I woke up in a clinic bed.”

He straightened, letting his arms drop lose by his sides, and stepped forward, leading their walk along the water. “And suddenly I was in Ba Sing Se again. Appa was gone _again_ \- for how fucking big that slobbery monster is he gets lost _way too much._ And everyone was alive.” He threw his arms out in disbelief “I thought I was dreaming. Or still falling and my brain had dissociated so hard when I was unconscious that it dream or up a whole new world. Turns out, I wasn’t that far off.” 

“Sokka, you’re scaring me.”

Sokka stopped walking. Katara kept her distance, watching him from a few paces behind. 

“Katara, your brother died.” the words burned as he said them, “The Dai Li beat him to death. Yue put me in his body. I’m not the brother you grew up with. You’re not the sister I grew up with.” He couldn’t look at her, refused to turn and watch as he told her the truth that even he hadn’t fully accepted. 

“What does that mean, Sokka? You’re scaring me! What are you talking about?!” she was panicking. Her voice fast and breathy, Sokka knew she had one hand on her necklace - holding fast to what she knew.

“I’m not _him_ Katara!" the words spilled out of him, truth and fear and shame, pouring out into the world. 

"I’m not your brother! I’m not from this place! Yue fucking scooped me out and put me here! She told me that your brother's body was _convenient_ . That she _liked me_ and didn’t want me to go too soon. _She wouldn’t let me die with_ _my_ _family Katara._ And now I’m here - I stole your _dead brother's body.”_ Sokka panted, his voice burning and raw with emotion .

“Yue said it was like pouring me into a broken cup. My body was destroyed because _I fell off an airship._ And your brothers was the nearest empty cup - 'broken, but whole' - so she just fucking poured me in.” he felt delirious, too big and too small and exposed all at once. He wanted to hide, to melt away into the ground and disappear from the world.

“Who’s Yue?” Katara's question cracked through Sokka's spiral, pulling him out by the scruff of his neck and back into reality. 

“The moon spirit. Yue, ‘Great Spirit of the Moon, Mother of the Tides and the Hunt. Healer and Giver of Wisdom. Goddess of Water and the Weather.” Sokka waved his hand around in a circle as he regaled Yue's titles.

“You met one of the Great Spirits?? How can you just call her that!?? You can’t say their names like that!! How dare you say her name so casually!! You know better than that Sokka!” Katara stomped closer to Sokka, her anger pushing and pulling at the tides of the river. 

“Tha - wha- what?? THAT?? That’s what you’re taking from this??” he spluttered, indignant “That I’m calling her her name??! We went on a date!! She _pulled me from my universe_ \- I’m going to go ahead and say that we’re on a first name basis. She saw me naked!!” 

“WHAT??! You were NAKED in front of a Great Spirit??! SOKKA WHAT THE FUCK??!!?”

“HEY! SHE TOLD ME TO IT’S NOT MY FAULT!” 

“YOU CAN'T JUST _DO_ THAT SOKKA!!!”

“KATARA!! MY NUDITY IS NOT IMPORTANT!!! CAN YOU PLEASE FOCUS ON WHAT I TOLD YOU??!!”

“WHTA?? THAT YOU'RE SOMEHOW BOTH MY DEAD BROTHER BUT ALSO NOT?? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO _DO_ WITH THAT?? YOU WANT ME TO BELIEVE YOU??"

"WHa? YES??""

"WHY??!!"

"BECAUSE IT'S THE TRUTH!!"

"HOW??!" Katara spun away from Sokka, turning to the rush of water instead and spoke, her voice thick "Why would you want me to _believe_ that? To believe that you're dead? How can you _ask_ me to do that?" 

"Because I can't live without telling you. I thought I was dreaming for the longest time. From the point I woke up in Ba Sing Se to now, I thought that this - that you and Aang and Toph and the whole mission thing with Appa - I thought all of that was something I made up because m brain couldn't handle the reality of me being rushed to death." 

"Stop - stop saying that. Just stop saying how you died. Please. I get it. I get that you think you died." Katara's breath shook as she spoke, " But please. _Please_. stop telling me. I don't care if what you're saying is real or not, because I don't believe you. But please stop describing how you _died."_

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry Katara." Sokka didn't know what ot do with his hands, he wanted to hold her, to hug his baby sister - but he couldn't. She wasn't his to hug. Wasn't his at all. 

"I’m angry and hurt and confused. I don’t believe you." Katara shook her head, " I _don't_. But if what you're saying is true, and one of the Great Spirits really did do something to you - than honestly, I don't know what to do."

“Tell me about it.”

“I mean, you still _look_ like him. And sound like him, you even _act_ like him. But a little younger? You act like you’re 15 again.” 

“Hey! I am _16_ thank you very much.” 

“Last time I checked you were two seasons older than me, so that means you’re 18 seasons this ice break.”

“YOU'RE 16??!” Sokka shook his head, disbelief clear “Oh my spirits you’re so old. _Oh my spirits_ _I’m_ _so old.”_

“Yea, a real grandpa.” 

They looked at eachother, the silence holding for a brief moment before they each dissolved into nervous laughter. They stayed their distance, unsure of where to go. 

“I’m serious Katara. I’m not the brother you love." Sokka whispered, "This is his body, and his life; but I’m not him.”

“I don’t understand. You say that, but you say that through my brother's voice, through his mouth, through his _body_ . You tell me that he _died_ and that you’re this other Sokka from a different universe. And that you died in your universe but one of the Great Spirits stepped in and put you in my supposedly dead brother's body. How can I believe that, Sokka? You want me to believe that my brother is dead? When you’re here walking around, and taking with me - even if you’re acting crazy? How? How am I supposed to believe you!? Why would I _want_ to believe you??!”

“Because I’m _not him._ And I can’t go on knowing that I’m some imposter parasite and not _tell you_ . I can’t _live_ knowing that he’s gone and I’m here and that I’m not him but I still _look_ like him because I _stole his body.”_

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove that you’re not him. Prove that you’re this ‘other Sokka’.”

“What?? How??”

“I don’t know! Can you do something?? This is _insane_ Sokka. Can you hear yourself?? Is this a prank?? Are you and Toph pranking me??!”

“No!! This isn’t a prank!! I’m being serious! How do you think I feel?!! I have to tell you that your _brother is dead._ Why would I joke about that?? Why would I make that up??” Sokka wasn't sure why he felt so offended, it was the most logical reason to think of why or what might be wrong with him. He wished he was pranking her, wished he could give her that. 

“Because you’re here!! You’re talking to me!! You’re not dead!! Stop saying that you’re dead!!!” 

“But he is! He’s gone!! I’m sorry. I’m sorry Katara. This isn’t a joke. Fuck - what I would _give_ for this to not be real.” Sokka pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, “But it is. It is and I’m stuck, and he’s gone.” 

““STOP! Stop. Don't _say_ that! Stop talking like you're dead! Stop trying to make me believe that you're dead!! Just STOP. I don’t believe you.”

They paced away from each other, Katara going to the water, Sokka to the tree line. Tension stretched between the two like a band, pulling them back together. 

“I don’t know if this will work, Yue told me I could heal but I don’t know if it will work.” Sokka walked to Katara at the river side, and picked up a small, flat rock. He ran his finger along the edge, and threw it into the water.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something sharp.”

“Here, I don’t know what you’re going to do, but this is sharp.” Katara held out a small bone knife, one that Sokka knew his Katara kept on her at all times. It was a little thing, barely longer than a finger, no wider than two. She used it for ripping seams and butchering small animals. It had been their mother’s, Katara had snuck it from their mothers funeral pyre right before Hakodate had lit it on fire. The sight of it made him want to cry, to laugh at the fact that _of course she would have it too._ This Katara’s mother hadn’t been murdered by the Fire Nation soldiers in one of their raids, but she had died from a plague they had brought. He wondered where the differences in their worlds started. 

“Thank you. Did you take this from the spirit pyre too?”

“No, you hid it from Dad when they were making it.”

“Oh.” his smile faltered, he looked down to the knife and held out his hand. 

“What are you -”

Sokka fisted his hand, and slid the blade across the center of his forearm, from outside of his elbow to inside. 

“Sokka!! Wha -”

“Look! Look at it!” He closed his eyes and held his hand over the cut, and concentrated.

He felt inside, the smooth burning embers of whatever he was washing around inside himself. Sokka tried to visualize the heat-light-liquid running down from the center of himself to his arm, and imagined it leaking out of the cut. It spilled, oozing thick before sinking back inside himself as he pulled the heat-light-liquid back to the center of himself.

Sokka opened his eyes, making contact with Katara, before lifting his hand.

The cut was gone. No scar, no blood, no _nothing._ Sokka heard Katara take a hard, quick, breath in - but didn’t take his eyes off his arm. He knew Yue had told him that he would be able to do things like this, that ‘he had the blessing of the Healer, of course you can heal Sokka. Now focus.’ but actually trying it, and _seeing it_ was an entirely different thing. 

“Who are you?” the soft, barely whisper, escaped from Katara. Sokka didn’t - couldn’t - look at her. 

“I’m sorry.” he turned away from her, towards the river, and looked at the sky. 

He had proven to her, and to himself, that it was real.

That he wasn’t her brother.

That he was something else.

Sokka listened as Katara walked back towards camp, her footsteps crunching through the rocks and pebbles lining the river. 

He closed his eyes and let her go. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka stayed at the edge of the river bed, waiting. He knew that Katara probably wouldn’t say anything to Aang or Toph, but that one or both of them would come looking for him once they saw the way that she came back. So he waited. Sokka stayed put, his mom had always said that if he got lost to stop and stay in the place he realized he was lost, and he was more lost than he had ever felt. So he stayed, he sat straight down and didn’t move.

Eventually, he moved so he could meditate or cultivate or whatever it was that Yue wanted him to do. He had done nothing but sit and work on his ‘powers’ with her for the last thirteen days, though he guessed from Katara’s point of view he had passed out sometime in the early afternoon and then they had crashed and escaped, only to wake up the next morning to him claiming to be ‘not real.’ 

He cringed, he probably could have handled that better - but all things considered, it could have gone a lot worse. Katara could have tried to kill him, instead - she had just walked away. Sokka would have preferred to be impaled by an icle. But what happened happened, and he couldn’t do anything about it. At least Katara knew now, and soon the others would too, but he stood by the fact that Katara deserved privacy and to hear first. It was her brother, she may not have chosen when or where, but he would give her all he could - she was still Katara, no matter what universe. 

Reality settled over him, smothering him like a too thick blanket. It felt like something inside him broke open, a door he hadn’t known he was holding shut burst open - flooding him with things he didn’t want to think about. His family, his friends, the world he had left behind to burn, the Sokka who had been brutalized, the clinic, Nian Zhen, Yae Song, Ming Je, Dr. Yin, - the ones he couldn’t save. The flood of emotions made him nauseous. He leaned forward, bringing his knees to his chest , and tucked his head between his knees. Guilt and shame wracked through him, suffocating him in their fury. Leaving nothing behind in their wake as they savaged through him. Sokka wanted to cry, wanted to scream and cry and tear at himself - to beg for the spirits to take it back, to give him the death that he wanted and to give Katara back her brother.

But he couldn’t. He had tried and all it had gotten was Yue telling him to ‘move on’ before she went back to her paperwork.

A sharp bark of laughter escaped him at the memory, and he shook his head, trying to clear it from inside him. It was futile. They would either come looking for him or they wouldn’t. What had happened happened. He couldn't take it back. So he waited, and he mourned. Sokka held the lives he lost, the ones he failed, inside him. He wished for a way to properly mourn them, if there was no one left in his world to mourn for them, then he would do what he could in this one. The nauseous eased, and he could breathe again. The smoldering burn of bile retreated, and he sat up, a plan forming behind his eyes. 

Sometime later, Sokka wasn’t exactly sure, Aang and Toph found him in the middle of his search for a decent piece of bone or wood. He would prefer bone, but wood would work if he really couldn’t find anything. 

“What’re you doing?” Aang walked like a ghost, and Sokka had never been so thankful that Yue had trained him to be able to feel if people or spirits were near him, otherwise he would have given himself a concussion by smacking his head into a tree branch. 

“Buildina shrine.” Sokka called out over his shoulder, "Well. Trying to, there's not much to use here."

“Huh.”

“Yup.”

“Is this because of what Katara told us?” Toph leaned against a tree, quick to the point as always.

“What’d Katara tell you?”

“That we had to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh, yea. Kinda.”

“Huh. Need help?” 

Sokka sighed, and straightened. Hands on his hips, he leaned back, twisting to crack his back. 

“Nah, it’s something I gotta do. Something I probably should have done a long time ago.” 

“Oh.”

“Yea.” Sokka rubbed at the back of his head, “It’s kind of a long story, and it’s not one I’m proud of, or one that I expect you guys to believe, but all of it’s true. And you guys need to hear it.”

“Cool, thanks. I hate all the words you just said.”

“Yea, Sokka. I’m kinda with Toph on this. Are you ok? You and Katara are being super weird today.”

“It’s freaking me out and I don’t appreciate it.”

“You and me both.” Sokka pocketed the small white pebbles he had taken from the river bed, and started walking back to the river from where they were in the tree line, “Let’s take a walk.”

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

Sokka let Aang and Toph go ahead of him, the sun was low now, dripping heavy across the turning sky. He looked down at his forearm, where he had shown both Katara and Aang his new skill. He had asked Toph how she wanted him to prove it, but she had told him that his heart hadn’t lied and that she had seen enough spirity-ness in her life that she couldn't doubt him. Sokka didn’t know what she saw, didn’t _want_ to know. Aang said he wanted to talk to his past lives and to try and reach out to the spirit world. Sokka could respect that.

If Katara had come to them and tried to tell him that she wasn’t the Katara he knew and grew up with, but also was, but also that the sister that he did grow up with was actually dead and now she was there inside her body - Sokka would think she was insane. That Pakku had hit her one too many times in the head, or that she had secretly found cactus juice. Either way - if Katara and his roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have believed her. Unless she did something crazy to prove it (which he had). Then he would want to hear the story again, this time actually listening.

But Katara hadn’t come back yet, and he wasn’t about to go looking for her.

Sokka was sure, the most positive he had ever been in his life about Katara’s mood, that he was the last person she wanted to see. 

Hell, he barely wanted to see himself.

So he let Aang and Toph go ahead. Let them go back to camp, and once he was sure that they had made it back safe, he turned and walked back down the river. Kicking at the rocks as he went, scuffing the bottom of his shoes along the river bank. He strolled back to the small beach he had found in his search for little bones, a little further up and past where he and Katara had talked. When he got there, the rocky shore welcomed him, barren from the waters edge to the tree line. Sokka laid down, spread out under the sky, and watched the stars blink into existence. His thoughts swirled and muddled, brief flashes of images mixed with surges of emotions, his mind wandering and jumping through half-thoughts. If he stayed on one for too long, he would drown in it. Sokka kicked out and waved his arms, a poor attempt at making a snow angel on shore of rocks. The feeling of the loose, uneven stones clattering against him was oddly soothing. He watched his arm swing against the rocks, bumping along and over and against the hard greyish earth. He stilled and grabbed at the rocks directly beneath his hands. Sokka took the handful of rocks and lifted them up, slowly turning his hand over, and let them fall - clacking down to the others below. 

He thought about what the others could be talking about. Imagined them sitting at the fire, deciding what to do with him. Sokka ran his hands over the rocks again, mindlessly, and imagined the possible outcomes.

If they kicked him out of the group, Sokka decided that at the very least, he would tell them to go to Iroh, because that’s what Yue had told him to do. Once they left, Sokka would follow. He would make sure they wouldn’t know, he’d follow them at a distance and make sure that they were safe and that they succeeded. If they decided to chain him up, or tie him up, or somehow detain him and then take him to a hospital or jail, he would let them. He would protest, but he would make sure that they knew he wasn’t going to hurt them, that he just wanted to help and that he was sorry. After they leave, when Sokka would be left alone in whatever institution they left him in, he would break out and follow them. Sokka would protect them no matter what. He hadn’t been ripped from his world and made a parasite in this guy's body just to abandon them. He would do anything for his family. For the Gaang. Anything. They were the only ones that mattered now, Sokka didn't care what happened to him or what he would have to do. If it involved the ones he loved and cared for, he would do _anything._

But, if Katara took him home, and led him out to the ice, he would let her. He deserved it. He would stay there, out on the ice, for as long as he could, and then he would go to Iroh and find them, and then once everything was done and the world was safe and the kids weren’t running head first into war, he would go back to the ice. And stay. For as long as he could. Until Yue herself came to get him. But until then, Sokka would stay where he was on the shore and play with rocks and half heartedly work at the meditation-workout-cultivation whatever that Yue had taught him. 

The night passed like that. His mind whirling through scenarios, idly nurturing his power, sprawled out under the vast sky. 

When Katara came to find him, the sun was already climbing above the treeline. 

“I want to hate you. I want to hate you _so much._ But I can’t. I can’t because you look like him. You act like him, you sound like him, you _are_ him.”

“Katara I’m n-” 

“No. shut up.” Katara closed her eyes and shook her head, “Sorry, just, please. Let me say this.”

“Ok.’

“I want to hate you.” the admittance hurt, but Sokka was glad Katara was taking him seriously. 

“Some part of me _does_ hate you.” she kept her gaze on the river, watching the soft swells of the currents, "But I can't." her voice broke as she spoke, "I can’t because you _are him._ I wish, spirits, I wish I could be angry, or hate you or _anything_ but I _don’t._ ” she shook her head, “I don’t. I don’t know why I don’t but I just...I just _can’t.”_ her voice quiet, _“_ It hurts so _much_ , but I can’t look at you and think ‘oh my brothers actually dead, that’s not him, that’s just his body with some other guy in it.’ because that’s _insane_ and because you don’t just look like him,” she turned to look at Sokka, sitting next to her, “you are him. At some level you are my brother. You’re _Sokka._ I need time, and time alone, to say goodbye, and I don’t trust you yet - but you’re _him._ I mean, you’re not him, but “ Katara huffed out frustrated, “I don’t know how to say it. You’re not _my_ brother, but I don’t hate you. I don’t resent you. You said you lost _everyone._ That your world _ended_ .” the earnesty in her voice forced Sokka to look away first, “I can’t be your sister, and you can’t be my brother. But maybe, we could be there for each other. Like Aang and Toph, we all found and made this family - and you found us. You saved Appa. Sokka may be gone, but if you’re here, it makes it feel like he isn’t. I get to see him laugh and smile and make stupid jokes and be infuriating and even if you’re not him, you _are_ and I can’t let that go. I can’t let _you_ go.”

They sat, side by side, shoulders pressed together, and let the river fill the void between them. 

“I thought you were going to take me back to the ice.” Sokka admitted 

“I thought about it.”

“Yea?”

“Yea. But I almost lost you once already, I won’t let that happen again.” 

Silence swelled between them again, memories of Ba Sing Se rushing through them; flashes of laughter and pain, hot food and cool stone. Big hands, soft words, lives he couldn’t save. Sokka fell back, the last of the air in his chest trapped and wheezing against his broken heart. Katara stayed sitting, knees to her chest, her cheek squished against the top of her knee so she could watch him. 

“Did we do the right thing?” Sokka stayed quiet, he knew she was talking about the clinic. 

“If we had left, would it have turned out differently? The Dai Li knew we were there the whole time. They would have come eventually, there was nothing anyone could have done. This time, we chose to fight. We fought with them against the Dai Li because they were good people trying to do the right thing in a shitty, fucked up world. We just happened to give the Dai Li an excuse to move.”

“We killed people.”

“Yes. We did.” 

“What do we do now?” 

“We live. We try to do the right thing and live _well_ , because now we’re not just living for ourselves. We’re living for the lives we took." the rocks beneath him dug into his skin as he breathed, "Killing is easy. Dying is even easier, dying is probably the easiest thing you could ever possibly do - but living is hard. Living is so _hard,_ Katara. Living sucks, it’s the worst. It hurts and is complicated and stupid and maddening, but that’s why people fight so hard for it. Because of how easy it is to lose it, so live Katara. Live for the people that can’t anymore, and live well. Save the world, and show them that they didn’t die in vain.”

Katara nodded against her knee, her eyes swollen and red. 

“Are you hungry?”

Sokka nodded, the rocks beneath his head clacking at the movement, “Always.”

Katara let out a wet laugh, throwing her head back to the sky before she reached a hand down to where he lay spread eagle on the ground. Sokka lifted his head and looked up at the hand, following the arm up to her face, a small, sad smile pulled at her wet cheeks. He reached up and took her hand, taking her unsaid offer. He pulled himself up to his feet, and brushed off the dirt from his clothes, following Katara as she led the way back to their makeshift camp. 

  
  
𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁  
  


The camp was quiet when they returned, Aang and Toph having gone off to practice bending. Appa and Momo were off in the tree line eating and chirping, Sokka paused at the tree break - trying to memorize everything. 

Nearly two hours later, Aang and Toph crashed through the tree line and into camp. When they spotted Sokka, sitting at the camp fire, they walked over - curiosity winning over their anxiety. 

"So! Other Sokka! What's different about me than your Toph?"

"Toph!! You can't just ask him that!!"

"Why not?! I wanna know!"

"Ahahaha, uhm well, she was younger, shorter, and - can you metal bend yet?"

"Metalbend??!!" Katara and Aang yelled at the same time Toph yelled "Hell YES!! Best earthbender in TWO universes!!" 

"So you can metalbend?"

"Not yet, but you bet your ass I'm gonna find some metal and bend the shit out of it!"

Sokka didn't think he'd ever seen Katara look exasperated by anyone other than him - it was a nice change of pace, if he was honest. It made him nervous though. He wasn't sure when the other shoe would drop, they had accepted him so far, even if they thought he was crazy - and they were (seemingly) taking his words seriously. Things were especially tense between him and Katara - Aang and Toph were uneasy around him, but took what he said in stride and as seriously as they could. Katara though, stayed on edge and quiet through his and Toph's and Aang's conversations. She watched him, observing him and making notes to herself - tucking information about him away that he didn't know he was giving. It made Sokka both proud and curious - had they met someone here that had lied about who they were? Was there a Jet in this universe?? The guy had died a bad death in his universe, and he certainly wasn't a favorite in Sokka's books, but if he had made Katara pay better attention to who she gave her trust to - than he had to hand it to the guy. Being a shitty person had made Katara more aware that there were shitty people out there, which made her be more cautious and think more. Breaking his sisters heart called for a beating, but making her more cognisant of those around her definitely helped lessen the heartbreak-beating. 

"So! What's next?" Toph clapped and rubber her hands together, "Got any insight on where to go from the sprits?"

"Actually, " Sokka paused, "Yea, yea I do - Yue said that I should go meet with Iroh."

'Firelord Iroh??" Aang yelped

"Apparently, never knew Uncle had it in him." Sokka shrugged, "Well. Actually. No. That's a lie. He totally had it in him. The dude was a crazy insane ultra master."

"Did you just call the Firelord, _Uncle_??" Aang somehow managed to look like he was both impressed and constipated

"Yea, we were all pretty close in the end. I hope he still makes tea."

"Stop. This is insane." Katara cut through Aang and Tophs questions "How can you just accept this? Do you believe him?"

"Not entirely, but I mean, he's not hurting anyone and he said that one of the Great's did it. If he has information about how we can take Ozai down - why wouldn't we want to hear him out?"

"Because he says he's from a different _universe_ and that's _insane."_

"Ok sugar queen - calm down."

"No! How can I calm down?? We have to stop Ozai, and now Sokka thinks he's dead and some other version of himself?? Suddenly he has healing powers?? What is happening?? Why am I the only one freaking out??"

"We are, I think it's safe to say that we all are trying to process what's happened in the past month. Because a _lot_ of really terrible things have happened, and now a Great has apparently decided to step in, and you know what? I've decided that a lot of other really awful things could have happened." Sokka hadn't heard Toph speak this much since the Great Gambling Debacle. "At least we _have_ Sokka. Even if he is different or crazy, at least he's not dead." Toph's voice quieted. 

Aang looked from Sokka to Katara, watching the two as tension and silence mounted.

“I can’t trust you.” Katara murmured, “But we need you.” her voice thick and heavy, “You say you’re Sokka, and if you are - if you _really_ are - then we need you. Because we need a plan.” Katara took in a shaky breath, “You’ve seen the worst outcome. I can’t let that happen to this world.” Toph grunted her agreement, as Katara continued, “Ozai is insane, the Fire Nation has been locked in civil war with him for years now, and that war is the only thing keeping him from destroying the rest of us. The Fire Nation is slaughtering itself, Fire Lord Iroh is doing all that he can to keep Ozai’s wrath contained, but there’s only so much he can do.” Katara looked to Aang, silently questioning if she should continue or if he wanted to take over, Aang nodded and Katara leaned back, letting him take the lead.

“Ozai is trying to finish what Sozin started, he’s trying to hunt down the last of the airbenders to begin his war on the spirits.” Aang continued, “Fire Lord Iroh can’t stop Zhao from his hunt _and_ stop Ozai’s genocidal war mongering. If you are who you say you are, then help us end this.” Aang made eye contact with Sokka over the tips of the campfire, “Ozai is threatening more than just war, he’s threatening to bring the apocalypse. We have to stop him. You’ve seen the end, that can not - _will not_ happen here.” The hard edge in Aang's voice held both threat and promise.

It made Sokka realize just how _young_ his Aang had been - his Aang had never sounded like this. Had never had the conviction, he had had the dedication - but he had been too young to hold and understand what this Aang was saying. What this Aang was planning. His Aang had hated violence, and would never partake if he could help it. This Aang - this group - didn't like violence, but they would do what they had to. It was all at once comforting and unnerving. 

“That end will never happen here.” rage and fury sang through him, _“Never.”_ Sokka's voice came out twisted and feral, a deep inhuman part of him bled through his admonition. The others tensed at his voice, leaning back slightly. Sokka sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to stamp out his anger before continuing. “We need to go to the Fire Nation. I have to speak with Iroh.”

Katara, and Aang shared a look. Toph slapped her thighs and stood, 

“Alright y’all, let's boogie! Looks like things are about to _heat_ up.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~  
> i hope you all have been well ♡  
> i would like a return and restart of 2021 ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨  
> things have been absolute . * ･ ｡ﾟ☆✧ batshit insane ✧☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ  
> but! at least i have caffeine, otherwise i would be dead ~  
> i hope you all enjoyed the chapter! things are going to start getting fun ψ(｀∇´)ψ 
> 
> also! i've decided to change the uploading days, because my classes are fucking Difficult i spend 99% of my time studying during the week, so i've taken to writing on the weekends which means that i'll now be uploading hopefully every wednesday/thursdayish instead of on the weekends. 
> 
> anyways! i love you all and i hope that you and your loved ones are safe, happy, and healthy!
> 
> until next time ~ 
> 
> (ෆ`꒳´ෆ) bees~
> 
> ps - the next chapter is 'Jasmine' ( ・ω・)⊃-旦~~  
> 


	10. Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief glimpse into life at Shu Jing Manor, the current operating residence of Lord Ozai, and the shadows that lurk within.

Chapter Ten

Prey

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Lu Ying was a short, insignificant man. It wasn’t that he had fallen from grace - quite the opposite actually, he had worked long and diligently to get to his position in the house - it was that his lord and master had the unfortunate circumstances of being a good, gentle, person. 

Lu Ying was insignificant much in the same way that utensils are. He was made for a specific purpose, and fulfilled his purpose quietly and without thought. He seamlessly existed, age giving nothing to dullness. Lu Ying could be wielded by anyone - though the method of his utilization varied greatly; like a spoon for cutting. Lu Ying was a trained man, and though his active years were long behind him, he was a loyal man. His master was a kind, intelligent man, and one who had achieved many victories, though they plagued him. 

Master Piandao was a great man with a terrible Lord. 

A Lord that held no regard for his people. No regard for anything. Lord Ozai thought only of himself and of violence. There were no thoughts to his actions, or at least none that could be discerned by him nor anyone Lu Ying discussed them with.

Lord Ozai was a statue of a man; beautiful, but incomprehensible. He was disconcerting - elegant in a manner no human should be. Lord Ozai moved as if each fiber of his being was calculated, measured within an imperceivable amount of precise, delicate control that exuded brutality beyond measure. The man was a beast, thinly veiled in delicately handsome features. Lu Ying had seen many, many things in his life; many great, and more terrible, such is a life of war. He had never seen something like this. Some _one_ like this. Lu Ying despised Ozai, but more than that, Lu Ying was unfathomably, unshakably, instinctually _terrified_ , of him.

Of the thing that paraded around in full vigor and charm, slithering through the castle walls, clamouring for greatness through a mouth full of blood and teeth, that should have been incapable of human speech. 

After his escape from the Imperial Palace, over two years ago now, Lord Ozai had rounded up his followers and invaded Shu Jing. It was not a night Lu Ying chose to dwell on, no matter the amount of time it spent burned behind his eyes.

Lord Ozai had come to Master Piandao’s home in silence and death.

The town residents were held under seige of Ozai’s militia, the castle itself had been overwhelmed - all the servants and families taken hostage, Master Piandao himself thrown into the unused dungeons. Lu Ying had kept his role as head chamber attendant, and for once, he found himself grateful for his old age - as most of the older attendants and servers had kept their positions, everyone else had been expelled from the grounds to be held under watch and knife by the soldiers that had taken over their small town. The once warm and bustling manor was now left only with the elderly, the beautiful, and the deranged. 

Lu Ying had expected his workload to increase to an insurmountable degree, and while it had increased, Lu Ying had become increasingly uneasy with the amount it _hadn’t._ Lord Ozai had decreed that no one - unless specifically ordered - was to enter or come near the main chambers. Lu Ying was more than satisfied to not enter the den Ozai had constructed out of Master Piandao’s personal chambers. However, he had become curious as to who or rather _how_ he was surviving. Lu Ying had never seen anyone deliver any kind of meal or drink to his chambers, and yet - whenever Lord Ozai appeared, he radiated health. 

Lu Ying decided to investigate. 

He started with making a list of the people that Ozai had brought in and a schedule of when and where they worked. He had to make a second list of when they got replaced. Still, Lu Ying kept to his list making. He noted when there were schedule changes, how many people and where they were, the food and live stock and weapons - Lu Ying used all the power he had to keep track of everything that happened within Master Piandao’s home. Everything except for what happened inside the main chambers. No one, except the Lord himself, went in. If they did, the Lord was the only one to come out.

It was not a place one went willingly. 

The shadows grew thick there. 

If Lu Ying had not been trained and had not reached Peak level, he would never have noticed how thin the air got the closer he got to the main chambers. 

The closest he had gotten was still too far. 

It was during one of his earlier inspection days, when he was still curious and confident, that he began to ask around what the Lord would like to have sent to his chambers, or how the Lord would like his meals to be presented. The answers he received were nonexistent, the moment he asked about anything regarding the main chambers the person he was talking to would turn and walk away - physically distancing themselves from him and his questioning. No one talked, no one knew. No one sent food to the chambers, it simply vanished.

Lu Ying decided it was time to confront the chefs.

He went armored with liquor and promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

He waited until the youngest of the Commis was finished before stepping into the kitchen. The executive chef, head chef, sous chef, and all the station chefs were seated around the in-ground fire pit in the servants annex off of the main kitchen. The station chefs were all ones that he had known for many years, Lu Ying had welcomed them to Master Piandao’s home himself, and had trained most of them in the ways of the household. The others; the head, sous, and executive chefs, were all of Ozai’s stock. A small group of tired, frightened men. Lu Ying greeted them as he entered, attempting to exude warmth and familiarity to calm the meeting he had interrupted. He shuffled his hands around in his sleeves, pulling out a substantial bottle of Baiju - much to the delight of some and a mixture of fear and anger from others. Ozai had not outright banned alcohol consumption, he had not banned anything at all, but the fear of being caught not working to their utmost and the punishment that waited had left the house dry. Which is why Lu Ying had planned this event to occur on this particular Saturday night. Nearly the entire palace would leave to go into town in the following morning, leaving the kitchen staff to have the least work.

Lu Ying settled himself onto the nearest soft cushion, as one of the younger men got up to get glasses. 

His plan went smoothly, drinks were poured liberally, the men bonded, and laughter rang quietly - a forgotten sound. Lu Ying waited until Ozai’s men had each poured their own drinks, a signal of their relaxation, before he began his questioning. He started light, asking about their families and where they came from - and in return telling them about himself. He asked about their favorite dishes, ones that they loved to make but hated to eat, slowly mixing and churning the conversation to reveal emotions that they refused to acknowledge under the heavy weight of Ozai’s thumb. 

Piandao’s men lapped eagerly at the chance to complain, their old bones tired of the clamour and rigor.

In the end, Lu Ying didn’t even have to ask - the men gushed and spilled information like a fresh wound. They spoke of how tired they were of his demands, of the insanity that had overwhelmed and consumed Ozai - they spoke conspiracy theories and spirits, of what might lie beyond the doors that led into their Lord and Monster’s den. They spoke of the mystery around the disappearing food. How they knew the number of soldiers and servants and officials, and how that number was always _wrong_. There were somehow always more people, more food to be made, than what the numbers showed. The number varied though, sometimes the count would be off by four, or by six, sometimes as slim as two, but no matter what - the count was always off. Small enough to be practically unnoticed, but enough for the small palace staff to be noticeable. There were not many of them left in the manor, such small, ordinary things like meals had become extraordinary - a means of keeping watch on who was left.They had been terrified at first, that their meal count was wrong, but Ozai had said and done nothing. That had been over two years ago. Now, it was an unspoken rule that they made extra. They still counted meticulously, tracking and observing when and where they made extras, of what meals had gone quicker or what went missing most often. The men confessed that they kept their log hidden in a recipe book, though they refused to say which one. Lu Ying prodded, how long had the men been working with each other, how long had the extra meals been going on, why did no one speak of it?

The men quited. The warmth of the room was lost, sucked out of the air like the meat from a bone, greedily devoured by something unseen.

Nadech, the executive chef, lifted his glass and spoke. His personal story surging from within, spilling out to them - a confession.

An apology they wouldn't know until it was too late.

He had been taken, sold by his parents as a young boy to their debt collectors. From there, Nadech was given to a government official as both a means of placation and bribery. The Official was known to be corrupt, more focused on the earnings he could make and the pleasure he could have as someone who was able to be in Lord Ozai’s counsel room than he was on anything actually said in the room. Nadech had been given to satisfy the man. When Nadech had turned thirteen, too old for the man's liking, he had been banished from the man's sight to work in the kitchens. From there he worked his way up from assistant to Commis to swing to butcher, all the way until he made it to Sous Chef. Then Fire Lord Iroh had come to reclaim his throne and the house was thrown into panic. The whole of the Fire Nation had been plunged into chaos, and by the time Fire Lord Iroh rightfully sat on the Dragon Throne, Nadech had been one of the few that had nothing and no one to run to. He had been trapped for so long in that house that he had nothing outside of it. So he had stayed. The house emptied, servants and their families fled to the outer islands, the capital city emptied until the only people remaining were nobles and criminals locked in their prisons. The only difference being one door made of iron and one door with iron locks.

Those that were left were trapped, no longer separated by human means.

The ones that were left gave into their instincts - burrowing and tucking deep within the dark. Away from the thundering predators that lurked outside their walls. 

Ozai broke out of his hidden cell deep in the palace sometime later. Nadech had trouble remembering when exactly - but recalled that late one night the Official had come screaming into the kitchen for the best they had, that they were going to have a very important guest, a cloud of thick opium vapor sticking to the man’s blubbering skin. Nadech had been one of four people left in the kitchens, maybe one of nine people left as servants to the whole manor. There was little they could do. The pantry had been becoming increasingly bare, they had taken to curing the last of the meat, pickling and canning the last of their vegetables and fruits and now their house head wanted an extravagant meal? For who?! Nadech cursed the man, vengeance and hatred thick on his tongue. Still, Nadech regaled, anger calmed by another glass of Baiju, in the absence of the executive chef Nadech and the rest of the kitchen crew scrounged to create a simple but elegant meal for two.

When it had come time to bring the meal to the Official, they played Elements to decide who would be the one to bring the meal into the room.

Nadech had played fire and lost.

The tray had been heavy, Nadech recalled, the thick wood and ceramic dishware had rattled against each other - the crisp lacquer of the wood, the soft white of the dishware. He had been so worried that the dishes might crack that he hadn’t realised he had arrived at the main chambers. His partner placed their tray down and fled back to the kitchens, abandoning him to whatever lay within. Nadech announced his arrival through the thin shoji doors.

Lu Ying looked around the room, each man entranced by Nadech’s tale, completely engrossed by who the guest could be. Lu Ying stoked the embers of the fire, reaching for a piece of wood, throwing it to the flames. 

Nadech shook his head, and threw back his drink.

When he had opened the doors, he had expected to see another official or a noble or one of the gangsters that supplied the Official with his visces. Nadech had prepared himself to see many things, to feel many things. What he hadn’t prepared himself for, was to be serving Lord Ozai. Freshly escaped, his silken prisoner clothes pristine, his long ebony black hair pinned and draping over his shoulders, pale skin glowed like marble in the candle light. Nadech had never felt such a primal urge to flee as he had then, under the heavy amber gaze of their Lord.

Ozai had sat at the head of the room, dominating the space.

Nadech sipped at his drink, his eyes watching the memory play beyond them.

He had served Lord Ozai first, his body moving without him, never once though - Nadech said, his voice quiet and true - did he show Ozai his back. Lu Ying and the others looked at each other, nodding in confirmation - to show him your back was to ask for death, the fact was as true as Agni himself. 

The moment lingered, each man taking a moment to drink and check over their shoulders, looking deep into the shadows for something none of them wanted to find. Nadech was not an old man, as Lu Ying himself was, but at that moment, the man looked ancient. Lu Ying suspected that if he too, had worked under the terror of Lord Ozai for the past six, almost seven years, he too would be more weary than his rightful age. 

Nadech leaned in, one hand holding his half full cup, the other beckoning their little group forward. He made them promise to swear on who or what they loved, that what he said next would never leave their mouths, if they did not want that responsibility then they were free to leave. Lu Ying stayed, as did the others. They had gone this far, if anyone found out that this night had occurred at all they would be done for, what more could Nadech have that they had not already given?

More than any of them could have imagined. 

Nadech trembled as he spoke. He had looked up only once while he was backing out of the room. 

Lu Ying felt the hair raise on his body. 

The darkness crept towards them, slinking heavy across the wooden floor.

Lord Ozai had been surrounded, six figures sitting at attention behind him. His own personal troops. Rising out of the floor, identical in every way, laden with weapons, a pitch black hannya mask covering each of their faces. 

The men around him shuddered, Lu Ying felt himself grow numb - the light of the fire dimming, breathing cold against his skin as he realized the truth to the nightmares he had heard rumored.

Deep within the shadows, Lu Ying saw them.

The glint of long teeth - too big for its mouth - bared. Their horns sharper than any sword master’s dream. The smell of metal sank through the air, weighted with barely constrained blood lust.

Suddenly Lu Ying understood - it was not that he had been clever.

This is what had been planned, but he was not the one who had planned it. Ozai had _wanted_ this to happen - _knew_ that this was happening, knew what Lu Ying had been doing.

For how long? Lu Ying wondered, from the beginning? How long had he been watched and had no clue, how perfectly had he followed Ozai's plan? Lu Ying had just been the piece to move, to expose the ones that went poking at corners, sticking their hands into the depths. Ozai had wielded Lu Ying more perfectly than he could have ever imagined.

He was the smoke, flushing out the vermin, and now the flames were here.

Nadech breathed out, a single, horrifying word.

  
  
 _Kageoni_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> нёllоヾ(´∇｀○)
> 
> i hope you all are doing well ~ 
> 
> i had one full day off this week! it was very nice, and helped me realize that i wish to become a jellyfish - brainless and full of zaps. 
> 
> i know i said that this chapter was going to be 'jasmine' but i had some ideas and have decided to change the order of a few things, so this is a kind of introduction to the upcoming character introduction - in a way? it's an intro to an intro? i don't know how to explain it (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)? 
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> i hope you and your loved ones are safe and healthy!
> 
> bees ˎ₍•ʚ•₎ˏ


	11. The Tales of Being : Theogony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the origins of the great spirits. 
> 
> the beginnings of a collection of folklore from around this world, from tales of caution to proverbs of love and the origins of the universe, this is the first of many mini-chapters.

Chapter Eleven

The Tales of Being

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

_One: Theogony_

Once, a great long time ago - before the sea and skies - there was Anu. 

Long before time began, Anu was alone. From deep within the sky and the dark, Anu cried out “Oh! I am so lonely! If only there was someone with me!” So, Anu decided to find someone to be with them. Anu looked and looked, but no matter where they looked they couldn’t find anyone or anything. Anu started to cry, and from their tears came Shiaji. Shiaji looked up at Anu, and told them “I have come from you, and so will others, but you will have to give yourself to create them.” Anu, lost in their joy to finally have someone with them, did not hear. 

Anu loved Shiaji, the first of their children, and with Shiaji, time began to move.

But Anu was still lonely, and wanted someone for Shiaji to love, so, Anu took out their heart and split it in two. Anu named the pieces Yuan and Fen, children of Love and Death. Two halves of a whole, they shared the burden of life and the destiny of loss. 

Anu took their eyes and gave one to see light and one to see dark, they were known as Raava and Vatu. Each saw the universe in its entirety - one looking with purpose, the other watching for joy. 

From Anu’s breath came Tate, full of mischief and new beginnings. 

From blood came Agni, full of passion and luck. 

From flesh came Jacheongbi, full of strength and growth. 

From bone came Tui, but from within Tui came La. Unbeknownst to any before, bone was made of outer and inner - Tui came from the hard, shielding outer and La came from the soft, flowing inner. They pushed and pulled at each other, each giving and each taking, lost amongst each other. With Tui came serenity while La brought chaos, twins of healing and hunting.

With each of their children came new life and new love. Anu cried out “At last! I am whole!”

Overcome with emotion at Anu’s words, the children worked together to bring the universe into being. Raava and Vatu brought day and night, Yuan and Fen created life, while Agni, Tate, Jacheongbi, Tui, and La worked together to create a home for the life Yuan and Fen gifted Anu. Shiaji moved time, gently setting the universe into motion. Anu wept at the sight, and with each tear shed came a new star. From one had come ten, and from ten had come everything.

From one to all. 

Anu was no longer whole, but entire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> нёllоヾ(´∇｀○)
> 
> mukashi mukashi...
> 
> ahahahaha i hope that you enjoyed this little ongoing collection of folklore that i've created for this world! it was quite fun to make! i based all the gods/spirits on real spirits/ gods /mythologies (including Tui, La, Yuan, Fen, and Shiaji - their names are just changed cuz i combined their 'powers') ! I don't want to put genders to dieties cuz that just seems...wrong?? so throughout the story all of them will be able to change how they want, whether that means young/old/male/female/both/none/etc. they are all gender/age fluid because they are literally supernatural beings and they can do what they want (and i don't want to tempt fate/the universe in any way/shape/form). 
> 
> Anu is an ancient Sumerian God King, Tate is Lakotian wind god, Jaechongbi is a Korean goddess of earth, Agni is the Hindu god of fire/hearth, and Shiaji is based on a combination of Aion (Greek) + Huh (Egyptian) + Annunaki (Mesopotamian). Yuan and Fen are named after 缘分 (緣分) (yuán fèn) and are essentially the dieties of fate - this includes love, life, and death. 
> 
> Tui and La are simultaneously the dieties of chaos and order - in contrast to Raava and Vatu who are the embodiements of light and dark. I think that there's a a very impostant distinction to make - dark does NOT mean chaos, and in turn chaos does NOT mean dark/death/destruction. I mean dark in the sense of night, or black holes - whereas chaos is unrestrained. Raava and Vatu are opposing but stable- they come from two different things but create a whole. Tui and La come from one to make two - they balance but are not stable. 
> 
> Kind of like how if you take abunch of colors you can either get a rainbow or a giant puddle of ??!!. Raava and Vatu are the rainbow, Tui and La are the puddle of ??!! La is god of the ocean - the ocean is the definition of chaos - it is litterally filled of everything i am bone deep TERRIFIED of (FUCK the ocean - honestly - why are there so many TEETH and just WHY) Tui is god of the moon - still and unchanging in the vacuum of space, it radiates serenity and good vibes. 
> 
> anyways! i hope that you enjoyed this cuz i had fun creating them! there are still some more that will be introduced later~  
> soooo have fun with that little nugget of forshadowing ←～（o ｀▽´ )oΨ
> 
> i hope you and your loved ones are safe and healthy!
> 
> bees ♡ ~~


	12. Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> desperate and vicious, what are we to do when all we know is silence?

Chapter Twelve

Weight

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

Nadech watched. 

Not the shadows that melted and sludged into human shape, nor the faces of the men that had lived and worked and loved with him. 

No. 

Nadech watched the tongues of the fire lick at feet of the air. Staring at the break in one of the logs, entranced at the burning, he tried not to watch as the darkness breathed around him. At the flicker and sway of the flames. He had no loyalty to Ozai. No loyalty to anyone nor anything. His loyalty lay in the grave, where it waited patiently for him. Nadech was an empty man. His purpose had been burned away, leaving nothing but the cold ashes and scorched earth of something that had once been human. The remnants of a life lost long ago.

The jug of Baiju was light in his hands. The weight of Ozai’s shadows heavy in the air.

Nadech wasn’t sure they were human. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted them to be. 

There were six of them, as far as he knew. Nearly indistinguishable from each other - the only obvious variation being their height. They never spoke, never got close enough for Nadech to see anything other than the matte black of their masks.The curve of black fang, the sharpened point of horn. Nadech didn’t want to get close enough to see the details. 

Less obvious, but still a highly distinctive feature, was their weapons. Nadech knew that they each used different ones - Ozai had given him a thorough lesson on weaponry after one of his earlier attempts of warning those around him. Their individual armories were based around either a Kusarigama, a pair of Sai, innumerable Senbon, a Kyotestu Shoge, a Katana, or dual Kure Kunais. In addition, they all carried small hand to hand weapons, a bow with arrows, and gear that could be used for either climbing or brutality depending on the circumstances. He had the scars to prove their effectiveness. Each one of Ozai’s personal combatants had the strength and prowess of a team of soldiers. They were beyond secretive, Nadech was sure that if he even breathed while thinking of them that Ozai would have them hunt him down. The only reason that Nadech was still alive, and knew about them, was because Ozai allowed it. Ozai knew that Nadech understood what it meant that he was still alive. It was the longest, most exhausting and terrifying game of mental poker that had ever happened. 

His life began and ended with Ozai. 

It began the night Ozai appeared at the Officials manor, his arrival shrouded in silk and blood. Nadech was captivated by him, jealous of the terror Ozai struck through the Official - of the tremble in his own hands and the amber of his eyes. Nadechs life began with Ozai, of the horrific dream he allowed to come true. Nadech had prayed to Asch, a child of Yuan and Fen - the Sprit of Vengeance - every night of his life for as long as he could remember. He had seen Ozai as the answer to those prayers. The dream he had hoped and longed for, come to a terrible fruition. Ozai had actively encouraged it, leaving one too many sharp objects out in empty rooms, one too many thinly veiled comments. His longing for blood lust filled the air like smoke. A thick, cloying perfume that seeped into Nadechs’ life and thoughts like spilled wine. 

The whole manor was filled with its haze. 

It had felt dreamlike. Nadech had been called to the main chambers, just as he had been the first night, only this time he was the only one to approach. His kitchen mates had long since disappeared. The manor was empty, whole wings full of nothing but dust, Nadech had the inkling it was only the three of them left. Through the drugged haze of violence he was never sure of anything anymore. He made food and cleaned - his daily life unchanged from before, only quieter now, the space of bodies filled with silence. Sometimes he would hear or see things that could mean there were others, but the fog of blood lust and terror stained and clouded his reality. That night though, Nadech had been called, the shoji doors already open, to a room of Ozai, the Official, and himself. Ozai had been draped across the crown of the room, with the Official sprawled in the center - his huge body beached on the dark wooden floor, splayed out like a hunting trophy - a deal. 

Nadech had taken it. 

The fog of his mind only clearing after, far too late to claim innocence. It shook him how simple it had been. The act of ending a life, the rise of his arms, the fall of a chest, the sound, the feel, the whole of his life had accumulated and built to that moment.

For both of them.

Everything that that had lived, that they had become.

Their entire lives had built and accumulated to that point, only to climax for another’s entertainment. 

A forgotten blade. A bare throat. 

Simple. 

Bound.

It was the first of many lessons. 

That one - his first one - and his night of weaponry were the ones that had stayed with him. 

Logically, he knew that the ‘lessons’ were a means of entertainment and thinly concealed torture. They served as reminders, as stress relief for Ozai, as a way for Nadech to inch closer to his loyalty. 

His lesson on weaponry began when Nadech had come to - kneeling in the center of a lavish, windowless, room. Ozai had stood, towering, above him. Six black figures stood lined at attention behind him. It had been simple, Ozai had gone down the row, one by one, taking their weapon and telling Nadech about it - its history, origin, and what that weapon was used for. When he had finished monologuing about one weapon, Ozai would go and place it on a silk-covered table and move on to the next one. After all six were on the table, he had asked Nadech what he thought of them, and which one he liked the most. Nadech had answered honestly, the rope around his wrists heavy and biting. Ozai had nodded and gone back to the table, picking up the weapon - the Kure Kunai- a strange sword-like thing, as if the cleaver he used in the kitchens had been elongated and brutalized. Sharp on both sides, it was just longer than the length of his forearm, with no guard or pointed tip, ending on one end in a metal ring and the other flat, abrupt end to the folded metal.

Ozai brought it back to where Nadech was kneeling on the floor. 

He held the weapon, balancing it and threading his slim fingers through the ring, spinning it around in a blur of black and silver as he stepped forward. Nadech was frozen, his heart shook, beating erratically behind the thin walls of his chest.

Faster than Nadech could breathe, Ozai spun the hilt of the blade into his palm and sunk the flat, blunt end of the blade deep into the meat of Nadech’s thigh. Ozai had been so close that when Nadech had looked up into Ozai’s eyes, he could watch as the deep inky black of Ozai’s pupil filled his eye, until only a thin band of amber haloed around the dark. 

Nadech nursed his drink, wishing the burn of the alcohol would spread out and consume him. 

Ozai had spent two full days “teaching” him about the weapons of his very own, personally trained, secret elite team. If these were the "lessons" Ozai taught, he didn't want to think of the training they had gone through. The thought alone made him sick to this day. It was effective though. Nadech didn’t warn anyone anymore, he barely talked at all anymore - only speaking when absolutely necessary and never more than needed. It was simpler that way - no talking meant no camaraderie. No camaraderie meant no secrets, no past history, no personal information, which meant that _they_ didn’t speak either.

If they didn’t speak, they lived. 

This time though, Lu Ying had spoken.

Lu Ying had broken the precarious balance that Nadech had painstakingly built to try to keep all of them alive. He had wanted answers that no one should have wanted, that no one should have even thought to ask in the first place. Nadech had kept careful watch over the log of missing food, brushing it off as people coming back for seconds or sneaking it to those in the dungeons or to the unfortunate outside. Had logged it to make it seem like he was figuring out what meals people liked best.

Nadech had tried _so hard_ to keep them alive. 

Lu Ying had just wanted answers.

Nadech couldn’t fault him for that, he had been the same way - but he had _learned._ He had been _taught._ They were not things that people should know. 

The wood in the firepit cracked, a small explosion of embers flitted through the air, showering the small, now empty, room in a brief burst of warmth. The Kageoni had been quick, but merciful. Their blades held true, the others had been dead before their bodies hit the floor. They were gone now. The Kageoni had vanished, taking the bodies with them, leaving Nadech to a room of ghosts and fire. 

He shook the last of the Baiju out into his small cup.

Ozai had _wanted_ them to be seen, wanted to make sure Nadech saw them, to be reminded of what they could do and how simple it would be for them to do the same to him. He didn’t need the reminder. Every shadow, every corner, every moment of his life - Nadech knew had been measured out by Ozai, and the moment he was no longer useful - or more likely the moment Ozai grew bored - one of them would come for him and he wouldn’t see, hear, or feel it. 

The heat of the room was gone, sucked away with the life inside it. 

Nadech had learned not to watch. He _knew_ not to watch. But he had seen Lu Ying and the myriad of emotions he had gone through before realizing that all of it, and him too, were planned. That he was trapped, and that Nadech could do nothing because he was as trapped as the rest of them.The only difference was that Nadech was trapped with his eyes open, a hand on his throat, and a blade in his mouth while Lu Ying and the others were blind and deaf. 

Blissfully ignorant to the hungry maw they resided in. 

Nadech was too tired to wish they had kept their blindfolds on. He had tried. He had kept quiet, had told them to just do their work and be happy they weren’t in the dungeons. He had _tried._ Why couldn’t they just _be quiet?_ What more did they want? The pretty thing that held tyranny over them was following their every move like a spoiled child following a line of ants. They were helpless, a miniscule form of entertainment - blind to the locked doors and matchbooks. 

All it took was one move and everything would turn to ash.

He was bound to Ozai. His word had been given in exchange for the opportunity of vengeance. Nadech had given himself, what little of him that was left, to Ozai for the life of the Official with the condition that Nadech would be the one to end the Officials life. Ozai had laughed, a deep grating sound that had sunk into Nadechs’ bones, but allowed it.

He looked down at the empty white cup in his hand and cursed himself. Cursed the Official, his parents, his lack of strength, Ozai, and the others. Lu Ying and the Kageonis. He cursed the Spirits and wept silently. 

A life devoid of life. 

cold fire and scorched earth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (-∇-;)・・・нёllо
> 
> i hope you all are well ~~ 
> 
> i have done terribly on my exams and would very much like to walk into the forest, find those mystery stairs and take them into the next dimension. or just straight up become the baba yaga. or a hermit. I'll take any of 'em. anyways, I've got some exciting things planned for the next couple of chapters so I'll be updating twice this week ~~ 
> 
> what did you all think of the theogony? I've got some other 'tales of being' written/drafted out that are based on some real folk tales that I think are pretty cool - I've got the origins of each nation, a tale of caution, a tale of love, a tale of perspective, and a tale of greed (each story is from a different nation!) I also have more stories about different spirits - kind of like greek myths but with the spirits \\( ‘з’)/ and with less (none) castration/general greek myth shenanigans ~
> 
> i hope you and your loved ones are safe and healthy! 
> 
> (୨୧•͈ᴗ•͈)◞ᵗʱᵃᵑᵏઽ*♡
> 
> \- bees ♡
> 
> also!!!! here is a photo/reference to the kure kunai - it comes from one of my favorite manhwa's "Legend of the Northern Blade" (북부 검의 전설) by Hae Min and illustrated by Woo-Gak. i think it's a combination of an executioner's sword and a kunai, so I came up with 'kure' which comes from the character for 'sunset' or 'end'. i highly recommend reading the manwha or light novel for "Legend of the Northern Blade" !! 


	13. Little Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the crow has flown away;
> 
> swaying in the evening sun,
> 
> a leafless tree.
> 
> \- Natsume Soseki

Chapter Thirteen

Little Birds

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

* * *

There were times he felt that his body moved as though it was guided. That the skin on his bones felt things that weren’t entirely there. 

The feeling of sinking into deep, cool, water overwhelmed him as he sunk further into the shadows. It was comfortable there. Buoyed and hidden. His pulse slowed, breathing shallowly until he felt himself slide into a familiar state of suspension. Letting his body fall away, he focused on the scene playing out in the dull light below him. The others around him, far back in the dark, shifted. 

The small group of elderly and middle-aged men were drinking, slowly getting rowdier as the night progressed. This was not an unfamiliar scene, hidden and waiting, their prey and target below - it was less of a job and more of a chore. Their Commander’s orders were absolute - what was said or envisioned, they would make reality. It was all they knew. Tonight, that order was to take care of the loud chirping noises. The men passed around a large earthenware jug, their thick Northern Island dialect sloshing through their words.

Sensing movement, the man looked away from the drunken scene around the iori and towards the kitchen doorway. The eldest of their group signaling to the rest of them to take the bodies out when they left. He did nothing. There was no need for confirmation or a correlating signal. He would do as told, quickly, to return to his place of suspension and calm. The one that knew of them, the one their Commander called “Nadech” and used as a toy, was speaking. 

It went as it always had.

The one with a name gathered the others, they waited, the story ended - the named ones, the men’s, and theirs. 

Then they left.

Bodies sometimes heavy over their shoulders, other times they were left to cool on the ground. Stories ended, they returned. The same story played over and over, monotonous and time-consuming. 

The man had learned a long time ago to not wish for more, though more always seemed to find him. 

The thin metal of the mask brushed against his cheek, cool on his pale skin, as he turned his focus back to the men. 

He had grown used to the weight and the touch long ago, the metal clasps had left their scars on his temples, cutting through the fabric of his uniform - deep into the soft of his skin. Branding him a wearer. A _“kageoni”_ as the named one called them. It was a fitting name. No longer human, no longer named, they had nothing other than their orders. Nothing more than shadows. Nothing more than demons. 

Unaware of their time, the men below laughed and spilled their drinks.

The man waited, the signal would come - it always did - and until it did he would wait, deep in his cocoon of quiet and dark. 

He heard the named one begin his story - the first signal. The man had heard this story before, countless times, the confession of a dying man to those that were already dead. 

At first, it had made the man want to share his as well, to talk with his team of the time before, pale attempts at bonding further - but he had trouble remembering his time before the training, before the cave, before the dark. It made the man wish he knew what to feel if he should be jealous of the named one for keeping his memories? Shame at the fact he couldn’t? Anger and frustration at the ease of his speech?

He didn’t know. 

He never knew.

Instead of thinking, the man let the memories of his time with the Commander move through him in a slurry of images and an absence of emotion. The man listened and waited.

Before long the named one finished - their last signal. The man ebbed forward, releasing himself from the dark of the shadow, his fellow team members pulling forward in sync. It went as it always did, the man breathed, taking the air in with him as he moved forward. The weight of his weapon a part of him, he moved to his target - the heat of the fire threatening and beckoning as it lapped at the air. In a single, easy, move the man brought his weapon up, in, and out. Pulling the body with him as it drained life onto the floors below. He hefted it over his broad shoulders, the frail weight of life doing nothing to slow him as the man escaped the annex. 

The comfort of night held him as he ran. The others paced out around him, their usual silent steps thudded heavy against the earth as they ran weighted with foreign life. They regrouped deep in the forest behind the manor, nearing the mountain that backed the valley. They spoke briefly, a flurry of hand motions and single syllables, agreeing to dispose of their bodies and to meet at the edge of the abandoned orchard at dawn. Their Commander had trained them in the art of the Divine Ghost, they were bound together, finding one another would be nothing. 

They split, jagged and routine. The man had turned on his heel, taking off deeper into the forest, running in the direction of the coast. He ran for what felt like hours until the air thickened with salt and the deep lush of the forest began to thin. Until he was far enough to give the man he carried respect. The body was nothing new, a heaviness he would carry with him until the moment he died. A new hollow inside himself was carved out like a grave. The man laid the body out on the damp earth, scattering leaves, and small life. Through the foliage, the man watched as the moon hung full above him - casting its pale glow like a dying spotlight onto him. 

Stepping away from the body, the man gathered his supplies. Kindling, stones, wood - the accelerant he carried with himself at all times, though originally made to be a fast-acting poison, it worked remarkably well as a fire accelerant. The fire itself was part of him. It coiled deep within his body, thrumming just behind his heart, it pulsed with him - beating aggressively with barely tamed power. The man and one of his fellow team members each held a Heart of Agni, though neither of them had been taught how to wield it since their childhoods - the same as most of their fellow nation. It was rare to be trained beyond the basics, to step beyond the first stage of Bright Palm was only for those of nobility or who had the luxury and means to afford to. The man and his companion did not, while in the dark - under the personal training of their Commander - they trained themselves. This led to punishment. As a result, however, the punishment led the man and his companion to train with heat rather than flame, and in doing so were able to train under an unseeing eye. 

With his supplies gathered, the man moved to an open space closer to the coastline where the wind was strong. In a practiced motion, he placed the body and his materials before settling himself with his back to the wind. The man placed the accelerant, lifted his hands, and guided the burning out from within. 

The man knew it was nothing. Part of him hoped that one day someone would do the same for him. To let him burn over a careful flame until all he became was ash and wind, a forgotten memory. 

The wind carried smoke and ash up into the still dark sky, scattering the ash against the stars. The man’s palms burned. The waves churned. The moon watched. Time moved forward, relentlessly. Unflinching. Uncaring. 

𝌂 ⻀ 𝌁

By the time dawn came, the remnants of the night had long disappeared. 

The man and his team arranged themselves against the dawning sun, the looming trees of the orchard surrounding them. They had just enough time to meet before the heavy iron chain of their Commander shackled them. Before the weight of their new commands crushed them. With their chore done, the only thing left to do was reporting their activities before being sent out on new assignments. Sometimes, like their chores, were done as a team - all six of them working in tandem for one job. Other times they were split, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in teams, sometimes solo. It all depended on where and how many, the ‘what’ of the job rarely changed. Infiltration, assassination, intelligence gathering - the dirty work of a filthy lord. 

In the cool shade of their pre-dawn meeting, the man and his team gathered their reports, it was one of the rare moments they got to see and speak to each other, with all of them present and able. It had been a long time since the man had heard their voices, longer still from hearing his own voice. A part of himself knew that he had missed them and had worried about them, they were the last and only survivors of the cave - the people he had grown and trained with. They had come from different places and vastly different lives, but had all suffered the same nightmare - the same hell that was brought by their Commander. 

The larger part of the man knew that what happened to his team, happened - and that there was nothing he could do about it. That they had all been lucky so far, or maybe it was that they had been trained enough to be competent. Privately, the man thought the reason they all returned each time was that they were all too terrified of failure - that if they failed in their missions that their Commander would find them even in the Spirit Realm and bring them back to suffer a degree even the Great Spirits couldn’t inflict. They served the Commander, not for his ideals or his thoughts, but because they knew nothing else, there _was_ nothing else - only orders, only commands. The thing they served saw itself greater than the spirits, and sought to prove it to the world - they held no love nor grace for it, but the power it wielded over them was filled with their past and their horror. There was nothing left for them but to follow, each new command adding to the weight held over them. 

Their brief time in the orchard gave the team a moment of reprieve - not enough to become human, but enough to know they were each alive. Enough to take off their mask in the quiet light and breathe.

The man and his team held the moment of quiet, looking at each other for the first time in ages. It had been several months since the last time they had been called together. The man had been sent to the capital to observe the remaining officials and to make preparations for infiltration. The only thing left in the capital had been the palace - the city itself was empty, nothing more than wood and ghosts. The palace itself had been turned into a fortress, Iroh’s final stronghold.

He had just finished his preparations to infiltrate the military fortress when he had received his Commander’s summons to return to Shu Jing. A far cry from Iroh’s fortress, their Commander’s base was more of a beast's lair hidden amongst the living. The man was unsure of where the others had been during his time in the capital, but knew that they were all on edge - there was no protection, no fortress, no nothing. Their Commander had taken over the village of Shu Jing in a matter of hours and had done nothing with it since. Soldiers and vagrants milled about the small village with the original residents. There were no walls, no guards, and no exits. Only those with orders could leave the village, the rest stayed - waiting, drinking, gambling, falling deeper down into the trap of the glory of war. The once quaint village turned into a fortress, walls made of their lives - all to protect a single man who had built nothing but graves. 

The man watched his small team, letting the soft sound of their voices pull memories from the depths of his mind.

The oldest - Arai - with his sharp features and deep voice, sat against one of the large trees, his kyotetsu shoge clinking as he shifted. Hazaki, the other firebender, was leaning against a tree with Hua at his side, whispering back and forth. Hua’s kusarigama and Hazaki’s katana slung heavy around their waists, their bows knocking against the wood of the tree from where they sat against their lower backs. Kou, slim and fierce - she sat in between them, the only master of their team at the Sky Parrot-Frog poison arts, cleaning and organizing her senbon and her vast amounts of poisons. Sasaki stood, stretching his large frame, stepping easily into his warm up routine - his twin pair of coal-black sai moved through the air, silent and flowing. The man watched, as close to content as he could be - their time together slipping away as the sun rose closer to the horizon. 

The sky lightened.

Zuko closed his eyes against the light, his dual kure kunai sitting heavy on his lower back, the sound of his teammates washing over him. 

A swarm of little birds threw themselves at the sky, crashing and swirling like waves against the rocks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all are well!
> 
> hehehehehe ψ(｀∇´)ψ
> 
> surprise! it's
> 
> ✧・ﾟ:* zuko! *:・ﾟ✧
> 
> i'm procrastinating doing my chemistry test by posting this (-∇-;) 
> 
> i've written and re-written and re-written again zuko's intro, but i'm posting this one because i like it the most and i hope you enjoy it too ⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝
> 
> also - i just want to make it clear that their commander is Ozai, and that The Man is Zuko! my beta reader wanted me to clarify that, so please let me know if something is confusing!
> 
> i hope you and all your loved ones are safe and healthy! 
> 
> -bees ♡♡  
> 
> 
> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> i've made a tumblr so that i can have direct access to hell
> 
> [portal](https://hollwedbodies.tumblr.com/)


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